


Court and Spark

by vulpesarctica



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Daddy Issues, Drama, Engineering Graduate Anakin, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, Movie Composer Obi-Wan, NSFW, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Romance, Slow Burn, obikin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-23 00:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpesarctica/pseuds/vulpesarctica
Summary: Following the breakdown of his relationship, Ben Kenobi reluctantly decides to return to his family home on the other side of the country to deal with his unresolved issues about his father. Unknown to him, a certain Anakin Skywalker has also just returned to the town he grew up in with his own problems, and it's just a matter of time until their paths collide.





	1. Night Ride Home

**Author's Note:**

> Giving fic-writing a go for the very first time! Please be kind :)

“And the Golden Globe for 'Best Original Score’ goes to… Ben Kenobi, _Joni!”_  

 _Oh my god. I’ve just won a Golden Globe._ As he began to get to his feet, he cast a dazed look at the other people at his table, all of whom were clapping. Satine in particular was giving him an I-told-you-so smirk as she brought her hands together in her usual refined manner. She stood up with him, giving him a brief hug that he thought felt strangely stiff. The applause suddenly seemed deafening.

He was vaguely aware of shaking several people’s hands as he made his way up to the stage, although minutes later would realise that he could not recall a single one of their faces. Was it meant to feel this surreal?

Reaching the podium with a stunned grin, he accepted the statuette from the young tuxedo-clad actor standing there, and then turned to face the auditorium. Suddenly, he remembered how much he had loathed public speaking as a teen.  _Better make this short and sweet, Ben._  

Clearing his throat, he began, “Uhm… wow. Well, this is obviously a terrible mix-up.” That got a small laugh from the assembled crowd, although he knew it was probably more due to his accent – Americans always seemed to find it ‘charming’ – than his wit. He felt, rather than saw, the raised eyebrow that Satine was currently sending into her hairline.  _Alright, don’t take the piss. You’ve had your comedy moment, and it wasn’t even that original._

Shaking his head a little with a lopsided smile, he continued, “But seriously, this is incredible. Thank you all so much for this. It was an honour to work on this film, not only because of its amazing cast and crew, but also because of the incredible love I have long held for the music of one of my favourite artists of all time, and the fact that I got to work directly with her on this.” Aware he was on the edge of rambling, he made the executive decision to wrap things up. “I… I hope she finds it a fitting tribute. Thank you all, thank you.” 

Then there was applause and the exit ‘please-leave-the-stage-now’ music wafting over him as he descended back into the crowd, where he would consume at least three too many free glasses of champagne while receiving at least five too many ego-inflating comments. Looking back at the evening later, he would recognise that it was pretty much all downhill from there.

 

* * *

 

“Th-hank you for driving, ‘Tine.” Half-hearing the slur in his words, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and switched the air-con up to the next setting in the vain hope it would take the edge off. He knew it was no fun to remain sober when your partner was getting thoroughly sloshed, but that hadn’t exactly stopped him. He took another glance at her and admired the sparkling gown she had rented for the ceremony, and her perfectly styled blonde hair. Even in the unremarkable setting of the driver’s seat, she was effortlessly composed. He had told her how lovely she looked earlier, hadn’t he? Annoyingly, he couldn’t remember. The atmosphere in the car was slightly frosty, and he wasn’t sure it was just coming from the air-con.

“It’s alright.” Was he imagining the curtness in her voice? He couldn’t tell. He tried to focus on the buildings flashing past the window, but quickly realised it was probably doing more harm than good. 

Tentatively, he took a chance. “Is everything… okay?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.” Satine was a confident driver, so the fact that she was keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead told him clearly, even in his inebriated state, that everything was most certainly  _not fine._

 _I hate this game,_ he thought to himself, and decided to put a hasty stop to it.

“Don’t do that, Satine. What is it?”

Nothing for a moment. He briefly wondered if he had actually said the words aloud, or just thought them.  _Do other people do that, or is it just me?_  But then she was answering.

“…Do you know how many times you brought up your father to complete strangers tonight?" 

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that. He blinked stupidly, and then hesitantly responded, “What?”

“I said, do you know how many times-“ 

“No, I heard what you said. I just… what?”

This time, she did take her eyes off the road to look at him. The icy glare he received made him wish she hadn’t.

“Ben.” How could she make his plain nickname sound like such a chastisement? “I’m sorry, but if I have to hear one more word about your… your  _daddy issues_ , I’m going to drive myself into the nearest lake.”

She’d hit a nerve, and the drink only made it worse. Louder than he’d intended, he snapped, “Fucking hell, well… thanks for the bloody compassion!”

But apparently she was ready for this, and unfortunately for him, she was also stone-cold sober. “I’ve given you nothing  _but_  compassion, and patience, for the last 18 months, Ben! But you don’t seem to be able to change the record! Every time you have a drink, every time you meet someone new, every time you have a bloody… spare moment, the first thing you seem to leap to is bringing up your sodding dad!!” she shot back at rapid-fire while turning right onto the next road.  _She has always been good at multitasking,_ he thought absently.

Scoffing, he tried to buy himself time to come up with a witty retort. He came up empty. “For… for fuck’s sake Satine! Tonight of all nights, I think I was well within my rights to say that me winning a fucking… Golden Globe would have finally shut him up, once and for all?!” He hadn’t meant it to come out as a question, but somehow it did anyway.

“Perhaps, but you could have spared us all your pity party of then  _repeatedly_  speculating that he would probably have asked why it wasn’t an Oscar!”

“Well… he bloody would have!!” he sputtered. The car was starting to climb uphill now, away from the city, and he clicked off the air-con and fumbled with the switch to send his window down instead, hoping the fresher air would provide a mental clarity that the filtered stuff was not.

“That’s not the point and you know it!” she fired back. “Why can’t you get over this...  _inadequacy complex_  that you seem to have?! The man’s been dead for nearly two years, and yet you seem even more obsessed with living up to his completely unreasonable standards than ever!”

She sighed aggressively, giving a cursory flick to the indicator and then steering them off to the left when the light ahead turned green. A little calmer in tone, she continued. “I’m just… I’m just exhausted, Ben. I have tried to hold my tongue until now, but I am so,  _so_  tired of you not recognising how talented and hard-working you are, and how much you’ve deserved every award you’ve ever won and more. I know he made you feel like you were never good enough, but… why can’t you seem to see that the fault was with him, not you?”

The car fell uncomfortably silent. His anger was bubbling near the surface, but even through his drunken fog, he knew there was a bitter truth to her words. This was not the first time she had pulled him up on the problematic way he spoke about his father. Unexpectedly, the threat of tears stung his eyes and he blinked violently several times. At the same time, he thought he felt the atmosphere in the car shift into something different. Still, it didn’t prepare him for what Satine said next.

“I… I don’t think I want to do this any more, Ben.”

“…Excuse me?”

Somehow, without him noticing, they had turned onto their street. Slowing the car, she turned her head to look at him again as she continued, “I mean… I don’t think I  _can_  do this any more. It’s too much. I’ve got my own things to deal with... not that you've been particularly interested in _my_ life for the last 6 months."

That stung, mainly because he knew she was right. He hadn't exactly been the World's Greatest Boyfriend recently. He opened his mouth to protest half-heartedly anyway, to bring up the film and how life-consuming it had been, but she cut him off. 

"I know, the film. And I know you worked so hard on it, and you really did deserve that award tonight, but... it's not working for me any more. Ben… it’s just too much, I can't deal with all of your... issues... on top of my own!”

He gawped at her before belatedly realising he probably looked like some kind of dishevelled, drunk goldfish. He sat up a little straighter as she pulled to a stop outside their house, and said incredulously, “Are you… are you actually breaking up with me because I’m not  _grieving_  the way you’d like!?”

She didn’t rise to his bait, which was probably for the best. Sighing again, she gave him a sad look instead. “This isn’t grieving, Ben. This is self-flagellation, and I refuse to carry on watching you do it.”

He was silent. He could still feel his anger lurking within him, but more than that he felt guilt, and shame. _Those old familiar friends._ Staring down at his hands in his lap, he searched for the words to form a coherent response. "I...," he started, and then tried again. "You... you don't know what he was like, Satine. He just... nothing I did was ever  _worthy_ in his eyes. My whole life."  
  
She reached over from the driver's seat and took one of his hands in hers. They felt warm, while his seemed cold and clammy. "You're right, Ben. I don't know what he was like, and I promise I'm not trying to… minimise the effect he has clearly had on you. But... you don't seem to ever want to get help to deal with these issues, and... it's making me start to resent you. I don't want to, Ben, I love you -- but you continuing to wound yourself with your memories like this is just getting too much for me. I... I wish I could fix it for you, but I can't. Did you...", she trailed off, hesitating. Even after all that champagne, he already knew what she was going to say next.   
  
"...Did you ever even call that therapist I found for you?"  
  
"...I think we both know I didn't."  _God, you sound bratty,_  he thought, so added, "Sorry. I just... you know I'm not good with this stuff."  
  
He felt her blue eyes burning a hole in the side of his head, and reluctantly brought his gaze up to meet hers. Her expression was sincere, and the rational part of him knew she wasn't trying to hurt him. The juvenile, petty part of him wanted to fight back, bring up her flaws, see how she liked it - but he squashed those feelings down and took a deep breath.  
  
"I didn't mean to... I didn't realise I talked about him so much..." he managed, slowly.  
  
"I think it's almost unconscious at this point, like a bad habit you can't break. That's why you need to get help, speak to someone, work it out.  _Please_ , Ben." He could hear the pleading tone in her voice, and briefly acknowledged how rarely she used it. It didn't suit her, and in that moment he resented himself for having been the cause of it.  
  
"...I know. I know." He gave a world-weary sigh, and wrinkled his nose at the taste of now-stale alcohol on his breath. "If... if I called them... If I spoke to someone. Would you stay?" He took the chance, but in his heart of hearts he knew what her answer would be.   
  
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and then let it go. "I'm sorry, Ben... I just can't. You need to do it for yourself, to heal - not to keep me."  
  
Defeated, he looked back down at his hands. "For what it's worth... I didn't mean to... neglect you. I love you, I didn't... you didn't deserve that," he said into his lap. 

"I know you didn't," she replied softly, "You aren't the type."

He took another deep breath. Everything suddenly felt very fuzzy around the edges, but he couldn't tell if it was the booze or the conversation. "What will you... what will you do about all your stuff?" he asked. They had only been living together for a few months. He momentarily recalled the day she had moved in, and then wished he hadn’t.

"I think I'm going to get out of town for a few days, maybe go and visit my sister. Her new place is only about an hour from here. I'll come by next week at some point to pack it up." 

She leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek tenderly. He experienced a strange, fleeting feeling that it was against the laws of nature that they were having such a horrible conversation when she looked so beautiful. "I hope you do get help, Ben. You're amazing at what you do, and you deserve to believe it as much as I do." 

He felt his eyes sting with tears again.

 

* * *

  

After he watched the red eyes of her tail lights disappear into the night, he turned back to the front door and tried to unlock it one-handed while attempting to loosen his bowtie, which had started to feel uncomfortably tight, with the other. After missing the keyhole for the third time, he gave up on the bowtie and steadied himself on the doorframe while he eventually slid the key in. 

As he let himself in, he glanced idly at his watch.  _11.48,_ it told him _. Fuck, is that all?_ He mused if it was some kind of record: winning a Golden Globe and losing a relationship within the space of about 5 hours.  _Now now, Satine said no more pity parties,_ he thought bitterly. Suddenly, another thought occurred to him – where was said Golden Globe? It took him a moment, but then he remembered having to hand it back to be sent away for engraving. God, how much _had_ he had to drink?

Flicking on the light, he caught sight of himself in the hallway mirror. His grey eyes were bloodshot and his sandy hair was far from its usual neat arrangement. Plus, now his bowtie was crooked. "Ugh, why are you like this?" he muttered to his reflection, as he finally managed to successfully remove the bloody thing and stuff it into his jacket pocket.

Abruptly, in his head, he heard his father's voice.  _'Another failed relationship, Ben? I just don't know why you can't seem to make them work.'_  

"Oh, just  _fuck off_ , will you?!" he barked into the silence of their home.  _Though I suppose it's just my home, now, isn't it?_  He dreaded to think how much worse his conversation with Satine would have been if she had known he occasionally heard the voice of his dead father speaking to him. _She was right; I do need help._  

Deciding a shower would be a sound decision right about now, he started up the stairs towards the bathroom, shedding his suit jacket as he went. On the landing, his eye caught on a framed photograph sitting on the side table there. It showed a 14-year-old him with both of his parents, all three of them smiling in their individual ways. It had been taken on the beach below his father's family home in Maine, and was one of the few photos of the man that he had kept. His parents had already been separated for years by that point, but that summer was a rare happy memory.

Sighing, he carried on up the next flight. After his father had died the year before last, he hadn't been back to the house in Maine, but neither had he sold it. It had sat empty for nearly two years now, only visited by the local man he had been paying to check in on it and keep the gardens maintained every other week. It was a big place, and although there were a lot of conflicting emotions attached to it for him, he didn't want it to go to ruin. 

 _Maybe I should go out there. I suppose I've got to face up to that place sooner or later,_ he thought idly as he stripped off the rest of his clothes and reached into the shower cubicle to turn on the water. Waiting for it to warm up, he continued the line of thought. Perhaps it would be more effective to deal with his 'daddy issues', as Satine had so delicately phrased it, at the house they were attached to, instead of the place where he had moved to try and outrun them.

As he stepped out of the shower 10 minutes later, a plan was taking shape in his mind. He would get the first flight this morning out of LAX to Maine, and go and stay in the old house for a while.  _It will be good to get out of the city for a bit, let the sea air clear my head,_ he told himself, although he was distinctly aware it may have still been the champagne talking.

Barefoot, he walked into the bedroom while he half-heartedly rubbed a towel through his hair. He winced as he spotted the upturned, half-read novel on Satine's bedside table - he had only just given it to her for Christmas a few weeks before. Forcing himself to look away, he collected his phone off the bed, where he had flung it on his way to the bathroom.

Trying to take a few steadying breaths as he looked up the airline number, he hit dial once he found it and brought the phone to his ear. "...Yes, hello? When's your first flight to Maine? ... Bar Harbor, ideally. ... Yes, I'm happy to change in Boston."

 

* * *

 

Slumping down in his seat, Ben let out a huff.   _For better or for worse, I’m here now._ Even if this did turn out to be a terrible decision, at least for the next few hours he was locked into this course of action. Gazing out of the window onto the tarmac, which was slowly becoming painted with dawn light, he supposed he should probably inform his agent that he was not going to be in town for the foreseeable future.

Fumbling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he called up his text history with Quinlan. The last message he’d received from him shouted in all caps, from just a few hours earlier, <FUCKING KNEW YOU’D DO IT! YES!!!!>.

He gave a half-hearted grin, and tapped, <Getting out of LA for a bit. Need a break from the madness. Thought I should probably tell you.>

Pinging it off into the ether, he sighed and rested the phone on his thigh, but was surprised when it buzzed with a response almost immediately.

<there are places outside of LA?! maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong all these years>

Frowning, he responded, <What the hell are you doing up? It’s 6am, the morning after the GGs!!>

<agents don’t sleep. it’s what we get in return for selling our souls to the devil. are you aware of my rule for my clients taking time off after winning awards?>

Ben smirked to himself.

<I dread to think. What is it?>

<a globe gets you 6 months of freedom>

He laughed aloud quietly to himself at that one. He pinged back, <…What would an Oscar get me?>

<a year!!>

<HA. Fingers crossed for February then.>

<don’t forget your tux!> came his wry reply. He could almost hear Quin's voice cackling the lighthearted taunt aloud.

And then it was time for  _phones off_  and  _seatbelts fastened_. Tapping it into Airplane Mode, he slid it back into his pocket and relaxed further into his seat as the plane began to move. He wasn’t usually particularly fussy about where he sat on flights, but was secretly glad he had stumped up for Business Class this time. He wasn’t really in the mood to be overly close to other people right now. He closed his eyes and optimistically sent up a silent prayer that he would sleep all the way to Boston.


	2. Stormy Weather

"Hey buddy, wake up, we're heah."

Ben snorted ungracefully as he jolted awake. Where the bloody hell was he? 

"Yah okay, kid?" A middle-aged man was stretching round to peer at him from his seat, one eyebrow raised in mild concern. _Kid?_

He blinked at the man a few times before the details of his current position in space and time came flooding back to him. Quickly, he brought his sleeve up to try and wipe at his mouth and beard, suddenly worried he had been drooling. God, he felt like shit. "Er, yeah, sorry... just had a rough night. Are we here?"

"This is the address yah gave me." The cab driver jerked a thumb up over his shoulder to the left. Ben peered up and out of the car window, and saw the dark house looming above him like a giant, hulking ghost in the foggy dusk. He winced. It had not been a good journey – his hangover had kicked in somewhere over the Midwest and his sleep had been fitful, interspersed with painful mental replays of the night before. The shaky light Cessna he had been forced to take from Boston to Bar Harbor had only made things worse. He had been planning to pick up a hire car there – the drive was only about 20 minutes from the airport to the house; Mount Desert Island was fairly small – but the way he had felt when he stepped off the plane into the frigid winter air had quickly changed his mind, and he’d reluctantly decided to take a cab instead.

"Yeah, this is it. Thanks." He blinked purposefully once more and then reached for the door handle before he realised what he was forgetting. He was used to pre-paying for taxis in LA. "Oh, sorry! How much do I owe you?"

"17 bucks. So what are yah up tah? Yah just buy this place or something? I didn't even know it was up fa’ sale."

He was struggling to decode the man’s thick Maine accent, which sounded uncomfortably foreign to his ears. Had it really been that long since he’d been up here? "Um, no, not quite," Ben responded, as he attempted to pry his wallet out of his back pocket. Managing to extract it, he opened it up and fished out a twenty. "Actually, it used to be my dad's place, but he died a few years ago. Here, keep the change."

As he accepted Ben's note, the driver's eyes lit up. "No kiddin’! You're Mistah Jinn's son? I never even knew he had a kid. Yah know, your fatha was a wicked good guy!"

 _Never even knew he had a kid_. Ben probably should have been more surprised than he actually was. Trying to breeze past the comment, which he knew the driver hadn't meant maliciously -  _so why did it hurt so much_ _?_ \- he forced an overly pleasant smile onto his face. It felt more like a grimace. "Is that so? I had no idea he'd made such an... impression on this place." 

Opening the car door, he climbed out with the intention of heading round to the trunk to pull out his bags and guitar case. The cold hit him like a sledgehammer to the face for the second time that day, and again he cursed himself for not remembering while packing that winter in Maine was very, very different from winter in LA. He would have to make a trip into town tomorrow to buy some more suitable warm clothes.

Recovering, he noticed that the driver had gotten out too and followed him to help. The man continued his praise cheerfully, his breath forming white clouds in the air. "Ah-yuh, real great guy! Very sorely missed down in the town propah. He invested a whole bunch a’ money in that place ovah the years - our town library is actually named aftah him, if yah can believe it!"

"Oh, I certainly can."

The driver hauled Ben's second suitcase out of the trunk with a thump. He must have seen his expression, because he looked at him and said much more sombrely, "Ah, I'm sorry kid. Yah must miss him a whole lot."

Ben returned his gaze evenly, and responded, "I think about him every day."  _Well, it’s not a lie_.

Now looking slightly uncomfortable - or was he imagining it? - the driver reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card before extending it to Ben. "Well, look - if yah ever need a cab again while you're heah, just gimme a call. It was a real pleasure to meet yah, Mistah Jinn."

"It's Kenobi," he responded, a little sharper than he had intended. "...I didn't take his name," he added, as a sort of apology.

The driver gave him a hard-to-read look, but then smiled jovially. "Ah, my mistake, Mistah Kenobi. Hope to see yah again soon! Yah take care now."

As he climbed back into his cab and started the engine, Ben looked up at the old house morosely and rubbed his hands together, wishing he had packed gloves. It started to rain. 

 

* * *

 

“And just who the hell are you?!”

For the second time in the last 24 hours, Ben jerked awake with a start. A hulking shape was looming over him in the darkness, and panicking, he tried to stand. He only succeeded in rolling himself off the sofa that he had apparently been asleep on, and hit the carpet with a thud.

“Ugh…” he rasped. His mouth was dry and sour. He swallowed. “What the… who are you?”

Pushing himself up off the floor, he managed to seat himself back on the sofa. The shape loomed closer, and growled, “I asked you first.”

“I’m Ben, alright?!... Who are you? What are you… doing in here?” he managed, as he slowly realised where he was. _The front living room. Dad’s house._ After a beat and mostly to himself, he added, “What time is it?”

“ _You’re Ben_?!” The vast figure’s tone changed entirely, and suddenly a nearby lamp that he hadn’t noticed previously flicked on. “Well, why didn’t you say so!”

Blinking up at him, Ben finally put two and two together. “Are you… Dexter, by any chance?”

In the orange glow of the lamp, an enormous man with a dark, bushy moustache was grinning broadly at him. “That’s me – call me Dex! Nice to finally meet you in person, kid!” _There was that ‘kid’ again. I’m 34, for god’s sake!_ Was this a Maine thing he had forgotten about?

Ben smiled weakly, and stood - successfully this time – and extended his hand. “You too,” he said. “Sorry, I… should have told you I was coming. I didn’t mean to alarm you. It was kind of a last-minute decision.” He had only spoken to Dex, the local man he had been employing as a part-time caretaker, via e-mail and over the phone before now.

His eyes widened as the man nearly crushed his hand in an enthusiastic vice grip. He was thankful, at least, that Dex’s accent was much easier to understand than his cab driver’s had been. Finally, his hand was released, and he peered at his watch. _6.30_ … _shit, how long have I been asleep?_ It was still dark outside, and he genuinely couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. “Uh, strange question, but… is it morning or evening?”

Dex chuckled, a deep hearty sound. “Ah, don’t worry kid, you haven’t been asleep all day if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s the morning, although I know it doesn’t feel like it this time of year! I like to stop by on my way to open up the diner. You want a coffee? I keep some here for when I’m working on the gardens. No milk though, sorry!”

Still slightly dazed, Ben managed a nod. “Yes, please. Black is fine.”

Dex turned and made for the kitchen, and he followed. “So what brings you out here finally, kid? You here for a while?”

“Er, a change in life circumstances, so to speak. And… I’m not sure. Yes, maybe. Like I said… last-minute decision.”

The large man filled a kettle and flicked it on, then turned to him. “Well, alright. So… that mean you won’t be needing a caretaker any more?”

 _Shit._ “Er…” What had come over him? He never usually planned this little for anything. What else hadn’t he thought of? “Well, I mean, er, it’s such a big place – I’m sure I won’t be able to manage it on my own! I’m happy to keep paying you, I’m sure we can work something out—”

Dex burst out laughing, catching Ben off guard. “Ha! Keep your hair on, kid, you’re not in trouble. As it stands, I was planning to give you a call next month anyway. The wife and I have been talking recently about selling the diner and moving further south. Winters keep getting harsher here, and we aren’t as young as we used to be!”

He breathed a sigh of relief and instantly felt less guilty. “So… you _want_ to end our arrangement?”

“Ahyuh, that’s what I’m saying!” Dex exclaimed, spooning instant coffee into two mugs he’d retrieved from a cupboard.

“Right… I’m with you. That’s fine! Although…” he hesitated, not wanting to sound like he was guilt-tripping the man. “I was being serious about not being able to manage this place on my own, especially if I’m going to try and get any work done while I’m here… Any idea where I could find your replacement?”

 

* * *

 

After a hot shower, a change of clothes, and a makeshift breakfast of some biscuits Dex had left and half a stale sandwich he had kept from the flight to Boston, Ben felt just slightly more human. The man had helped him haul his suitcases upstairs before he had left for the diner, and Ben had heavily employed the use of layers while dressing in anticipation of his trip to town. He was currently sporting a fetching ensemble of his LA hiking boots, two pairs of the thickest socks he had, some dark heavy Levi’s that Satine had bought him the previous year, a long sleeved t-shirt with a green plaid button-down shirt on top, a grey sweater and a shearling-lined denim jacket he had purchased for a past trip up to Seattle. It was the best he could do with what he had, but still not ideal.

 _Moron,_ he thought to himself. _What kind of weather were you expecting? It’s not like you haven’t experienced a Maine winter before._ He made a mental note that champagne was off the menu from now on.

As far as he could remember, the walk into town only took about 15 minutes. He had found some spare paper in his father’s study – which had still held a disturbing stillness in the air that catapulted him straight back into memories of childhood scoldings – and prepared a job advertisement for the caretaker position. Dex had advised that he could put it up in the town’s General Store for a small fee. He made sure he had everything he needed, and braced himself as he opened the front door.

40 minutes later, his fingers and toes numb and his nose streaming, he flung himself into the warmth of the General Store as a bell heralded his entry. He had attempted a short cut on a path through some woods, but as he hadn’t taken it for nearly 20 years it had inevitably turned into a long cut.

“Oh deah,” a kind-looking older woman with white hair was standing behind the counter. She smiled at him. “You look a little worse for wear! It’s a wee bit nippy out there, ayuh?”

Ben swiped furiously at his nose with his sleeve, and immediately decided that a scarf and gloves were at the top of his shopping list. “Just a bit, yes,” he replied, slightly incredulously.

The woman chuckled at him amiably, and gestured over to her right. “We got a heater over there, go warm yourself up. I’ll make you a tea! You an out-of-towner?”

Ben spotted the glowing space heater she was referring to, and gave her a grateful smile as he hurried over to it. Feeling the warmth wash over him as he crouched in front of it was heavenly. Looking back at her over his shoulder, he replied, “Yes… sort of. I spent a lot of time here when I was younger, but this is my first time back in a long time.”

“Ah, well in that case welcome back! That must mean you’re Mr Jinn’s boy, right?” she said, filling a mug with water from a big metal urn behind her.

Caught off guard, he nearly lost his balance from where he was crouching, his knees stiff from the cold. “…I am,” he admitted after he steadied himself.

Noticing his alarm, the woman let out a laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you! It’s a small town – word travels fast. Actually, to tell the truth I remembah meeting you when you were tiny – though I’m sure you don’t remembah me! My apologies though deah, I can’t seem to recall your name.”

Feeling embarrassed, but also slightly less like Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining, he struggled back to his feet and ambled over to the counter to accept the steaming mug she had slid over it. “Uh… that’s ok,” he smiled weakly. “Thanks for the tea. My name’s Ben.” He wondered whether it had been Dex or the cab driver that had given him away.

“I’m Jocasta – pleasure to meet you again deah.” He was starting to grow fond of the way people’s ‘r’s became ‘h’s around here. “I take it you’re heah for some supplies?”

“Yes – but also, I wanted to ask about putting an ad…” he struggled to retrieve the paper from his jacket pocket, his fingers still slightly rigid, “…up in your window. I’m looking for someone to help me take care of the house. I was told you would do that for a small fee?”

She gave him a warm smile. “Oh, no charge for you deah. If you’re anything like your father, we’ll be lucky to have you heah.”

 _Bloody hell. Are we talking about the same man?_ He knew he had come to Maine with the intention of facing his issues with his dad, but still, he hadn’t expected them to confront him quite so immediately. “Oh, well, er, thanks, but you don’t have to do that. I don’t mind paying.”

“Oh nonsense, I insist. Now, let me give you some advice about what you’ll need to buy for this weather – something tells me you aren’t quite prepared!”

Two hours later, he was delivered back to his door by a stocky, well-built man named Rex, who he had discovered owned the local hardware and electrical store. Overladen with groceries, supplies, some logs and kindling for the fireplace and two bags of heavy winter clothing, he had stopped by Dex’s diner (creatively named ‘Dex’s Diner’, which had amused him) for a proper meal. It had been surprisingly tasty, and on his way out as an afterthought he had paused at the hardware store to see about picking up a wireless router for the house. Rex had noticed him struggling to carry everything, come to the same conclusion Jocasta had about his identity, and offered him a ride back to the house in his pick-up truck. He had hesitated for a moment before the thought of the freezing walk back convinced him to accept.

“Looks like we got a snowstorm on the way, kid!” Rex exclaimed, as he hauled the last of Ben’s purchases out of the back of his pick-up and started up the path to the front door.

“Alright, just what is all this ‘kid’ business about?” he retorted with a wry smile. “You can’t be that much older than me!”

“Aw, it’s not an insult – just a Maine thing! We call everyone ‘kid’, no matter how old you ah!” Rex’s skin was a deep tan, and he wondered briefly if he had Native American heritage. The man’s features creased in a pleasing way when he smiled. Ben decided he liked him. “You gonna need help setting up that router?”

“I’d like to give it a try myself, but perhaps expect a call from me anyway!” Ben chuckled.

Rex reached into one of the bags they had set by the front door and pulled out a paper receipt. Extracting a pencil from his shirt pocket, he scrawled a phone number on the back of it, then handed it over. “Ha, well alright – here’s the numbah for the store if it turns out you do need help, with that or anything else. If I’m anywhere, I’m there!”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“No problem! I better get myself back to town before the snow starts fallin’. You’ll be glad you bought that firewood tonight! Nice to meet you, Ben!”

Ben watched as Rex hurried back down the garden path to the gate, and glanced up at the sky, which, sure enough, had taken on that strange still light that always appeared before snow. He couldn’t remember the last time it had snowed in LA. The last time he had seen any had been on a skiing holiday to Colorado with Satine.

He pushed that last memory out of his mind and tried to focus on the present. Overall, his trip into town had been agreeable enough, and he admitted to himself that he now felt a little bit better than he had this morning about being here.

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this angry. Kicking out the stand on his motorcycle a lot more aggressively than was needed, Anakin glared up at the imposing grey sky, which was threatening to snow, and wished he were back at Stanford. Leaving had definitely been a mistake.

He yanked off his helmet and gave a perfunctory glance either way up the street looking for oncoming cars, then stormed across to the General Store. He let himself in with a huff and then stopped, trying to remember whereabouts Jocasta kept the alcohol.

The woman herself was standing behind the counter, talking to a customer, and did a double take when she saw him. “Anakin! Well I’ll be, long time no see, stranger!”

Her warm demeanor and kind smile took the wind right out of his sails. He relaxed his shoulders from where they had been tensed up near his ears, and returned her smile reluctantly. “Hey, Jocasta.”

“Hey, kid! Good to see you back in town,” said the other customer, who he knew by face but whose name he couldn’t currently recall. Turning back to Jocasta, the man gave a polite nod, and continued apologetically, “I’m gonna get on home – snow comin’ any minute now!” Anakin and Jocasta both said their farewells, and he idly watched the man leave before turning back to her.

“So, you finally decided to come back to us, huh?” Jocasta chuckled, already pouring him a tea from the urn behind her. He rolled his eyes fondly – she was always making people tea. She placed the mug on the counter and leaned over it, gesturing him closer. He accepted her kiss on the cheek affectionately: he had known the woman since he could remember, and his weekend job in her store as a teenager was what had enabled him to save up enough money for his beloved motorcycle.

“Something like that, I guess.” He placed his helmet down on the counter and picked up the mug with both hands, appreciating the warmth through his gloves.

“What took you so long, deah? Surely you weren’t reluctant to return to our famous climate!” she said, winking at him. “I thought colleges let out in the summah months?”

He laughed. “Well, right now I can’t say I’ve missed it! I actually graduated last June, but I had a lot of friends living there and a bar job that I really liked, so I stuck around for a bit. Unfortunately, the place ended up having to downsize, so… here I am. Figured I had to come back some time.”

Noticing his change in tone, she gave him a sympathetic look and reached out to place her hand on his arm. “I know it can’t be easy for you, coming back heah. I was so sorry to hear about your brother. We all miss him.”

He nodded, inhaling sharply to try and force out the complicated feelings that boiled up inside him at the mention of Owen.

“Yeah, well…” he replied awkwardly, then trailed off. Deciding that a change of subject was the best course of action, he continued, “Anyway, I’m in the market for some work while I’m here. Got any jobs going?” Anyone in the town and the surrounding areas who wanted anything doing, and was willing to pay for it, advertised in Jocasta’s store window.

She had clearly sensed his discomfort, and never one to miss a trick, played right along. “It must be your lucky day! I had a man place an ad for a caretaker, handyman-type position just this morning. Interested?”

“Sure, I’ll take a look,” he shrugged, as she came out from behind the counter and crossed over to the window to retrieve the aforementioned advert.

Turning back to him with it in hand, she continued slightly conspiratorially, “Actually, this kid’s been the talk of the town this morning.” He smiled fondly at her use of the word ‘kid’. He’d missed how people on the Island spoke – one thing he could never get used to about California had been the accent, which had seemed bland in comparison. “You remembah old Mr Jinn, who lived in that big old house just outside of town?”

“Oh yeah, I remember – how’s he doing?” The man was actually a bit of a town hero as he recalled, although Anakin had secretly always found his famous warmth slightly superficial. He had met him a handful of times before he had left for Stanford.

“Well, sadly he passed a couple years back, but this Ben – the man who placed the ad – is his son!”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” _That’s weird, I didn’t know he had any family,_ he thought to himself. He took the ad from her outstretched hand and scanned his eyes over the neat handwriting he found there.

Jocasta continued as she returned to her former place behind the counter, on a roll. “He just showed up heah yesterday out of the blue, according to Dex. Said something about a ‘change of life circumstances’ had brought him. Handsome young man, he was – kind eyes. He must be rattling around that old place all by himself, barely knowing anyone heah – no wonder he’s looking for someone to help him out with it!”

“Is that so,” Anakin murmured as he read, half-listening, a scheme starting to form in his mind. After this morning’s altercation with Cliegg, he was now desperate to get out of that house for good, and if Mr Jinn’s place was as big as he remembered, perhaps he could convince this Ben guy to make it a live-in position. He wouldn’t mind accepting less money in return for rent.

The mental cogs of his plan starting to accelerate, he felt a sense of urgency to set it in motion bubbling up inside him. He was always like this when he had one of his ‘Big Ideas’, as Ahsoka liked to call them. 

“This is great, Jocasta – just what I’m looking for!” he said brightly, his earlier plans to purchase and subsequently down a six-pack of beer all but forgotten. “I’m gonna go check this out right now.” 

He drained the rest of his tea and set the empty mug back on the counter enthusiastically, reaching over to give her arm a squeeze. “It was real good to see you – thanks for the tea!”

“Anakin Skywalker, I know that look! What are you up to?!” Her tone was accusatory, but there was a twinkle in her eye. Fat white flakes were beginning to appear outside.

He snatched up his helmet from the counter and gave her a wide, toothy grin. “Ah, I’d love to stay and talk longer, but I gotta run – you know the bike doesn’t like the snow! I promise I’ll come by again soon, bye!”

Lord, had she missed that boy.


	3. A Strange Boy

It had taken him the best part of an hour and 2 different instructional videos on YouTube (eating up his phone data because, as predicted, he hadn’t quite been able to figure out the router) but after cleaning out the old ash from the fireplace in what had once been the ‘family’ room, he had managed to get a fairly impressive blaze going with the wood he had bought earlier.

Ben sat back on the sofa to admire his handiwork. “Take that, LA sensibilities!” he chuckled triumphantly, clapping his hands together - then coughed abruptly at the cloud of black dust that rose up from them. He looked down and realised with dismay that he’d left ashy marks all over the expensive grey material he was sitting on. “Oh, for fuck’s sake-” 

After a trip to the kitchen on the hunt for cleaning supplies, he dealt with the mess as best he could with what he found. _At least I can’t get told off for this any more,_ he thought with a sigh. He wondered briefly if he should call his mother and let her know about his recent relocation, but quickly dismissed the idea. She still lived in England, and although they had been close when Ben was a teen, they had grown further apart in recent years. _Maybe once I’ve been here a bit longer._  

He glanced out of the bay window at the snow that was now falling steadily. The wind was starting to pick up, as Rex had correctly anticipated, and he could hear the bones of the old house creaking in reply. As a child the noises had frightened him, but now he listened to them with a strange fondness. He had spent the majority of his childhood following his parents’ divorce in Surrey with his mother, but they had regularly flown out to the States to visit his dad in the Christmas and summer holidays. Their separation had been largely amicable, so she had been happy to accompany him on the visits. As he had reached his mid-twenties and his relationship with his father had continued to deteriorate further, he had started to suspect that it was her continuing agreeableness with the man that had begun to push him away from her, too.

He felt a sudden urge to explore the house and reacquaint himself with it as an adult, in the hope that it might reset some of his old preconceptions about it. The building was a large, rambling ‘Queen Anne’ style property with three storeys, a turret on the road-facing corner and a covered porch that ran the full length of two sides. It sat on about 7 acres of coastal land on a small bluff above a strip of beach, and the outside was painted in greys and whites; he remembered thinking of it as his father’s ‘castle’ when he was very small. The majority of the house dated back to the turn of the previous century, but Qui-Gon had made various additions over the years including a spacious garage and a large structure at the rear of the property that housed an indoor pool, taking care to match the style of the new building to that of the original architecture.

He wandered upstairs and peered into each of the darkened bedrooms in turn, leaving the master – his father’s old room – til last. There were six altogether – four on the second floor and two on the third. There were four bathrooms – a master, an en-suite attached to the master bedroom, another en-suite between the two bedrooms at the top of the house and a WC on the ground floor. When Dex had helped him carry his luggage upstairs earlier that day, he had been planning to tell him to put it all in his old room within the turret on the second floor, but when he had stepped into it he had suddenly felt wildly off-balance, as if he was on the deck of a ship in a storm. He had quickly chosen one of the spare bedrooms instead. 

Coming back downstairs via the rear staircase that ran alongside the kitchen, he meandered through his father’s old office and the adjoining library, which contained the ridiculous and intimidating antique Steinway grand piano that Qui-Gon had presented him with for his 17th birthday. He gave it a suspicious glance before moving on into the dining room and the front living room, where he had fallen asleep the night before, in turn. It all seemed a lot smaller and less imposing than it had before, which he found oddly comforting.

After he made himself some dinner - an unremarkable pasta dish he threw together with some ingredients he had picked up at the General Store; he had never been a particularly accomplished cook - he retired back to the family room where his fire was still crackling contentedly. _Satine would love this,_ he thought sadly. Part of him regretted that he had never brought her here. Despite his feelings about it, it was still a remarkably beautiful place. He suddenly felt painfully alone. Perhaps if he’d come back sooner, had more courage to face up to things earlier… _Stop it. That’s not going to help anything._

He had helped himself to a bottle of red from the wine cellar in the basement, which he recalled Qui-Gon paying a small fortune to have installed when Ben had been about 16. It had a fancy glass door and climate control and everything, and he remembered on more than one occasion receiving a mind-numbing lecture about how much of an _investment_ a good wine collection was. As he poured himself a generous glass, he raised it in a little _fuck you_ to the old man, knowing it would have infuriated him to see Ben drink it so enthusiastically without even knowing how much it was worth. He settled onto the sofa with his glass, and a screenplay for a film that a director friend of his was currently in pre-production on. His own contribution wouldn’t begin til much later in the year, once a full rough cut of the footage was ready, but he liked to get a sense for the story in advance and see what his brain cooked up before he met with the director and producers. He shook off his earlier negative contemplations and tried to relax, kicking off his slippers and feeling satisfyingly serene in the warming glow of the fire. 

He woke drenched in a cold sweat, his heart racing. A nightmare – an old, familiar nightmare – had seen him drowning in the dark sea right beyond this house. _Fuck, what time is it?_ The fire was nothing but dim embers, and it was too dark to see his watch. He fumbled for the lamp he knew stood next to the sofa, nearly knocking it over before he found the cord and tugged down on it. _Jesus, I haven’t had that dream in years,_ he thought, rubbing his hands over his face. It was a nightmare rooted partly in memory, of an incident from when he was 9 and had gotten into trouble in the water during a summer holiday visit. It hadn’t been nearly as serious as his subconscious had just portrayed it, but when Qui-Gon had spotted him and hauled him out of the waves, his fury at Ben ‘for being so stupid’ had been palpable. It was a moment that had recurred frequently in the form of night terrors for several years afterwards.

While waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal, he heard his father’s voice for the first time since he’d arrived in Maine. _‘Fear is for boys, Ben. Men know that nightmares aren’t real, so they aren’t scared of them.’_  

“Oh yes, really fucking _solid_ advice for a terrified 11-year-old, Dad!” he spat irritably into the dark house. He really needed to stop falling asleep on sofas.

 

* * *

 

After he had reversed it out of the garage, Anakin hopped into Cliegg’s pick-up truck and slammed the door shut. He was ready to get this show on the road, frustrated that the previous night’s snowstorm had prevented him from doing so sooner. After leaving Jocasta’s store and making a hasty pit stop at Dex’s to say hello and devour two waffles he had drowned in maple syrup, he had returned to his bike and driven it out towards the old Jinn house to get a better sense of the place. He had been intending to go straight up and ring the doorbell right there and then, but the snow had been intensifying and what he had said in the General Store had been true – the bike didn’t much care for it. Conceding that this was probably irrational behaviour even for him, he turned himself around and attempted to book it home before the flakes began to settle on the roads.

He jammed the key into the ignition and turned it; the engine sputtered, protesting at the cold, and didn’t start. _Fuck, I miss California._ He glanced impatiently at his digital watch – _08:11._ This was an acceptable time to go and apply for the job, right? It wasn’t like it was a weekend or anything. He turned the key again, a little more forcefully. On his third attempt the old truck finally gasped to life. He really needed to look into buying his own car, but this was going to have to do for now. It wasn’t like he had told Cliegg he would be borrowing it anyway.

Pulling off the driveway, he took a quick look both ways before turning left. He was eager to get across town, although he knew his concern that someone else would speak to Ben about the job advert before he arrived was completely irrational. He also knew better than to speed on snowy roads. Letting out a huff, he carried on steadily and belatedly remembered to turn the heating up to its highest setting, wrinkling his nose at the musty smell that blasted out of the vents at him.

The upside of having to watch his speed more than usual was getting to admire his surroundings after last night’s snowfall. There was a mile or two of road bordered by tall pines on either side between Cliegg’s house and the main town thoroughfare, and Anakin had to admit it looked pretty magical all blanketed in white. _Alright, so maybe California doesn’t have everything._

Once he reached the town and saw all the buildings under the same wintery spell, his heart gave a little flutter. Although he was far from thrilled to be back in Mt Desert at this particular moment in time, he couldn’t deny the fondness he felt for the place in general. He had a lot of great memories of its funny little quirks and peculiarities from back when his mother had still been alive, and was still glad overall that he had spent his formative years here.

He toggled through the radio stations idly as he contemplated the day ahead. If all went to plan this morning, his circumstances could improve considerably. Just having his own space and earning his own money again would have a substantial impact on his mental state, he knew… although it certainly wasn’t going to fix everything – especially not after yesterday morning. _Nope! Not doing that now, brain,_ he thought vehemently, giving himself a little shake. _Turn off the sad, and turn on the charm – I am getting myself that goddamn job._

* * *

Ben yawned widely as he whirled the spoon around his coffee. Back west he usually drank the fancy stuff made by the expensive machine Satine and he had bought for the house, or the wildly overpriced and obscurely named blends he purchased from the coffee shops in the city, but the coffee Dex had made him the other day had reminded him that he didn’t actually mind the instant type… also, he hadn’t been able to find a French press in town yesterday. 

He had managed to get a few hours of undisturbed sleep once he had gotten into an actual bed following his unpleasant dream, but he still felt rough. He ran his fingers through his hair absently and hoped that his sleep pattern would return to normal soon.

He was just about to deposit his wine glass from last night into the dishwasher when the doorbell rang, emitting a loud distinct chime that Ben had always secretly found quite pompous. He frowned, placing the glass on the countertop instead, and reaching over to the kitchen island he clicked the lock button on his phone to show him the time. _8.46am. Who the bloody hell is ringing my doorbell at quarter to nine on a Wednesday morning? I only know about three people in this entire town._

He wound his way out of the kitchen, through the dining room and then the front living room to make his way to the foyer, coffee in hand. _God, this house is excessive._ Sliding the bolt back on the front door, he gave the old handle a firm tug to open it – the cold weather, he’d discovered, made it stick.

“Good morning! Heard you were looking for a caretaker?” A bright, male voice rang out at him, and Ben squinted at the sudden and painful influx of light into his pupils. The snowfall had turned the front garden and the road beyond into a winter wonderland, and the effect was blinding.

Taking a few moments to recover, his eyes adjusted to reveal a young man standing before him. “Sorry, still early…” he said apologetically, and trailed off. Correction: a handsome young man. A blond, tanned, and tall handsome young man. “…Did you follow me here from California?” he queried, with a slight tilt of his head.

“Huh?” said the handsome young man.

“Sorry, er, inside joke… with… myself, uh, so, you’re here about the job?”

The man give him a slightly quizzical look, but then seemed to regroup. “Yeah, that’s right. The one you posted in the General Store yesterday?”

“Yes, that… well, news really does travel fast around here.” Ben was still slightly stunned by the bright daylight and the stranger’s eyes, which were large, warm and blue. He really hadn’t been expecting anyone to show up about his advert so soon, if at all.

“Uh… mind if I come inside to talk about it? It’s… pretty chilly out here, don’t know if you’d noticed.”

Suddenly aware he’d been staring, Ben felt a blush creep into his cheeks and quickly snapped into action to try and hide it. “Yes, sorry! Come on in.” He took a step back and gestured with his free hand to invite the man in. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“I didn’t give it yet,” he said as he stepped inside, a playful half-smile quirking up one side of his mouth. “My name’s Anakin. You’re Ben, right?”

As he closed the front door behind him, Ben rolled his eyes. “How does everyone in this bloody town seem to already know who I am?” he exclaimed.

“Uh… you wrote it on the job advert...” Anakin responded after a beat.

Ben scrunched up his face with embarrassment and exhaled through his nose. “Sorry… it’s… been a strange couple of days.” He rubbed his hand over his beard, and then looked at Anakin. “You must think I’m mildly insane right now.”

“Eh, I don’t know, I’ve met quite a few crazies in my lifetime. You’re giving me like a 5 out of 10 right now,” he replied with a grin.

Ben chuckled. “Oh well, that’s not too bad then. Shall we start over?” He took a big gulp of his coffee, and continued, “Hello Anakin, it’s good to meet you. Please, won’t you come into the kitchen so we can talk about the job?”

“Sounds good,” he answered with amusement, and followed Ben’s lead.

“Sorry about the pyjamas… I wasn’t really expecting company so soon,” he apologised over his shoulder. He was currently only wearing a grey t-shirt, some striped blue-and-white flannel bottoms and the very ‘cliché LA’ slide shoes he used as slippers, and he felt slightly exposed. “Can I get you a tea or coffee?”

“A black coffee would be great, thanks. Do you always apologise this much?”

“Sorry— ah. Yes, apparently!” He shrugged mildly as he retrieved another mug from the cupboard above the sink, hearing a quiet laugh from Anakin behind him in response.

After he had topped up the kettle and flicked the switch, he turned back to face him. With a bit more clarity of mind, he studied Anakin and estimated he was probably in his early to mid-twenties. He was a little taller than Ben, and his features were strikingly handsome. He noticed a small scar at the side of the man’s right eye. He was dressed in a variety of winter clothing in dark colours, including black gloves and a dark red tartan scarf – much more appropriate than his own mismatched getup from yesterday.

“Aren’t you a little young for a caretaker?” Ben wondered aloud, and then cringed inwardly as he realised how rude it must have sounded.

Anakin, however, seemed to take it in his stride as he unwound his scarf and peeled off his gloves, dropping them onto the kitchen island. “Ha, yeah, probably! But I could use the work, and lucky for you I’m good at pretty much everything that’s to do with running a house.”

Ben raised an eyebrow. “That’s a pretty bold claim, Anakin…?”

“Skywalker. Well, the first thing you should know about me is I graduated last year from Stanford with a degree in Applied and Engineering Physics.”

Ben was impressed. “Well, that explains the tan. And in layman’s terms, that means…”

Anakin grinned. “It means if anything around here breaks, chances are I know how to fix it.”

“Do you know how to set up a wireless router?” he ventured, slightly hopefully.

“In my sleep.”

Ben suddenly felt very old, and tried not to show it. “Well, that’s one good mark against your name. I’ve got one in the living room that is unfortunately beyond me, but is currently doing great work as a paperweight.”

The blond laughed; a lovely, clear sound. Ben smiled reflexively. The kettle finished boiling and he filled Anakin’s mug before placing it on the island in front of him.

“Thank you. Yeah, sure, I can set that up for you no problem.”

“Marvellous. So, what’s the next thing I should know about you?”

“Well, I’m an _excellent_ cook, and I know how to clean too, so there’s that. My stepdad runs a Bed and Breakfast across town. By the age of 13, I was fully trained in the ancient arts of bed-making with military precision, and decontaminating a bathroom to within an inch of its life.”

Ben smiled again at the man’s natural charisma. He was vaguely aware that his cheeks were starting to ache. “Well, that’s all very impressive, Anakin, but slightly above and beyond the call of duty – you do know I’m just advertising for a part-time caretaker and gardener, right?”

Anakin leaned forward enthusiastically. “I know, well, actually, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

 _Hmm, now why does that phrase remind me so much of Quinlan?_  Ben thought to himself, although truthfully he already knew why. It was the exact phrase Quin used when he was about to take advantage of Ben’s affable nature to talk him into something.

 

* * *

 

 Anakin wasn’t sure what kind of man he had been expecting when he strode up to Ben’s front door and rang the bell, but he certainly hadn’t anticipated him being so… _cute._ The door had swung open to reveal an attractive but slightly weary-looking copper-haired man with a somewhat scruffy beard and earnest grey eyes, who was wearing pyjamas and clutching a mug of coffee. He was obviously still half-asleep, and Anakin had felt a little bit guilty about turning up so early.

Following a peculiar back-and-forth where the man had seemed strangely flustered, which Anakin put down to his obvious tiredness and also perhaps to his unexpected British accent, Ben had let him inside and made him a coffee with a bit more lucidity. As he had, Anakin had given him a quick once-over and placed his age as somewhere in his early thirties. He had also done a hasty scan of the hallway and kitchen – the little he could see of the place already seemed enormous, and was obviously expensively furnished. Was this guy secretly a millionaire, or what?

He was now drinking said coffee at the kitchen island while he prepared himself for the full charm offensive he had planned in order to convince Ben to let him move in. _Although, it’ll be easier than I was expecting… he’s kind of adorable_ , Anakin smiled to himself. 

He leaned forward in response to Ben’s query about whether Anakin knew this was only supposed to be a part-time role, and said with what he hoped was a winning smile, “I know, well, actually, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

He watched Ben raise an eyebrow quizzically, and took a steadying sip of coffee before he continued. “You’re not used to Maine winters, are you?”

The redhead blinked – he obviously hadn’t been expecting that. With a sheepish grin, he responded, “God, am I that obvious?”

Anakin chuckled. “Yeah, a little, but that’s where I come in. You’re looking at a genuine survivor of at least 10 of them. Do you know what to do to stop your pipes freezing? Or what to keep in the house in case you get snowed in? Or how to stop the frost getting to the plants in the garden? _Or_ , most importantly, how quickly to get to the liquor store when the forecast predicts more than 10 inches of snow?”

Ben laughed aloud at that, and he secretly felt pleased. It was a nice sound.

“You’ve got me there, I’m afraid. The last time I experienced a Maine winter, I was far too young to have to think about any of those things.”

“I can also teach you how best to drive in icy conditions,” Anakin continued, but Ben interrupted with a guilty look.

“Actually, I… haven’t managed to hire a car yet.”

“What!? Are you crazy? What, did you _walk_ into town yesterday?”

Ben’s embarrassed half-smile confirmed his suspicions.

“Ok, that’s it – clearly you won’t last a week here without me. Here’s what I’m proposing – since this is such a big place, and you are so _woefully_ underprepared,” he said cheekily, “how about you consider making the job a live-in position? I’m… uh… currently looking to relocate, and plus Dex said you were hoping to get some work done while you were here – if I _lived_ here, I could do way more for you! I promise I wouldn’t get in your way, and I wasn’t lying about being an excellent cook, you know.”

Ben was silent for a moment, seeming to study Anakin with interest. He held his breath unconsciously and took another swig from his coffee.

“…that Dex sure does like to talk, doesn’t he?” Ben said eventually, with a twinkle in his eye, and a hint of a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, he kind of does,” Anakin grinned. Now it was his turn to look sheepish. “Well... what do you think?”

“I think you’ve done a lot of thinking about this proposal of yours,” Ben replied evenly.

Anakin winced slightly, anticipating a refusal, but then, suddenly, the miraculous happened.

“I think… I think it’s not an entirely terrible idea.” 

“Really!? I’d be happy for you to pay me less in return for renting a room, and I promise I’m really tidy—” he babbled. 

“Actually, I was planning to pay you more,” Ben interrupted, putting down his coffee and folding his arms.

“…huh?” That caught him off guard.

“The job you’ve described is far more intense than the one I advertised for, and I fully intend to compensate you fairly for it. Plus, it might make you slightly less likely to run for the hills when you discover all of my various neuroses.” Ben was full on smirking now, and Anakin briefly felt a strange sensation, like an electrical current running through him.

“This… house has a lot of history in it for me,” the man continued more seriously, “And I have to admit that being in it alone is… a little strange. It might be good for me to have someone else here… I do have one question for you, though.”

Anakin nodded eagerly. “Sure, fire away.”

“Stanford is an excellent university, and your degree sounds very impressive. What exactly are you doing applying to be my live-in… _housekeeper_ … all the way out here?”

 _Ah. That question._ Anakin felt himself tense up, and tried to keep his shoulders from rising. “Uh, I… I’ve been having some… family issues, lately. I… I felt like I needed to come back home and… take a breath before, you know, trying to be a real adult or whatever. I just needed to find a job while I was here.”

Ben gave him a look that felt surprisingly sincere. His eyes had a lovely honest quality to them. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to pry… I was going to make a joke wondering if you were on the run from the law or something!! I really do apologise for intruding.”

Anakin exhaled, relaxing slightly. “Oh, right… ah, no, it’s ok! I didn’t mean to get all morbid.” He took a deep breath and smiled brightly. “So, anyway – I’ve got the job?”

Ben smiled once he saw Anakin perk back up, although he saw that there was still a note of concern in the man’s gaze. “Well, you certainly seem competent enough! It appears the early bird really does get the worm… yes, you’ve got the job. When will you be able to move in?”

Anakin gave him a broad grin. “Yeah, about that… how’s right now?”

“…what? Don’t you have… things to bring over?”

“Oh, it’s already all packed up in the pick-up outside. I just gotta unload it.”

Ben stared at him open-mouthed, as if he was searching for words but couldn’t quite find them. Finally, closing his eyes briefly, he managed incredulously, “…You… let me get this straight, you… packed up all your belongings, drove over here in the snow and ice before 9 in the morning and… rang my doorbell, with nothing but a half-cooked plan to ask me for a completely different job than the one I advertised for… with no guarantee I would accept?!”

Anakin shrugged, and beamed in a way he hoped Ben would find endearing. “Yeah, pretty much.”


	4. Shadows and Light

“Ok, this is the last of it,” Anakin huffed, as he offloaded a threadbare grey backpack onto the carpet that looked ready to burst open at any minute.

Ben was standing with one hand rubbing absently at his moustache, completely bewildered at the enormous pile of  _stuff_  that had suddenly materialised in the front living room.

“This… this all belongs to you?” he ventured, looking sideways at Anakin.

“Yeah! …why?”

Ben returned his gaze to the pile. “I just… wasn’t expecting so  _much_  of it.”  _I don’t think I have this much stuff in my entire house._

The blond gave him a sheepish grin. “Yeah, sorry about that… I’m kind of a pack rat.”

“…are all three of those suitcases just clothes?”

“Well, one of them’s pretty much all motorcycle gear. That stuff’s pretty bulky.”

“You have a motorcycle?!” For all Ben knew, that was in the pile somewhere too.

“I do! I’ll bring it over once the snow clears a little. It doesn’t do that great when the weather’s this bad.”

“Right. And, er, the bags full of… what exactly are these full of?” Ben cautiously nudged one of the four large canvas carry-all bags sitting on the carpet in front of him with his toe.

“Parts!”

“Parts.”

“I like to build and fix stuff in my spare time,” he grinned. “So I like to have lots of different parts around so I’m not always searching for components!”

“I see… and the three  _separate_  toolboxes. They’re all completely necessary, I’m sure?” 

“Completely.” Anakin nodded solemnly. 

"Obviously. And... the rest of it?"  

Anakin pointed as he went. "Laptop and games console... Computer speakers... My vinyl collection and portable turntable because I didn't know if you'd have one... Box of just, like, books and magazines and junk... And my winter comforter." 

Ben raised an eyebrow. "You do know, believe it or not, that other people own comforters too? I could have just given you one.” 

Anakin laughed. "No no, not like this. This is my special Maine winter comforter. It's got like, NASA heat-retaining technology or something."

Ben gave him a look.

"I get cold!!"

Ben laughed and then turned back to the pile, making a little noise of wonder.

"Let me guess..." Anakin smirked, "You're wondering where a recent graduate gets the money for all this."

"Well... sort of!” he admitted. “I mean, I was just thinking back on my own university days. I think I only had about three bags of belongings to my name after the entire three years."

"Only three?! How did you... live?!"

"Somehow, I managed." Ben responded sarcastically.

"Well, anyway, the reason I have all this crap is that I made a small fortune off of freelance computer repair and tech support when I was back at Stanford. I mean, sure, I had other part-time jobs, but the real money was in that stuff. You would not believe how backwards some people are when it comes to..." He trailed off as he remembered Ben's earlier comment about the wireless router.

"Uh, I mean - not that there's - I didn't mean -" he spluttered, eyes wide.

Ben had already picked up on his line of thought and was chuckling amiably. "That's quite alright, Anakin. Believe me, I'm the first to admit my shortcomings when it comes to modern technology. I only learned about Airplane Mode on my phone a few months ago after Satine explained it to me... Before that, I'd just been turning it completely off each time I flew!"

Anakin grinned reflexively, but then his smile faltered slightly as he registered all the information Ben had just provided. "Uh, Satine?"

"Oh," said Ben, his brow furrowing. "Er, sorry - Satine is my... well, now  _ex_ -girlfriend... We only ended things very recently; I think it's still sinking in."

"Ah, sorry to hear it."  _Oh, so he's... Well, it's not like you've never found a straight guy attractive before. So he's into women, whatever..._ he told himself, not entirely convincingly.

His phone pinged, interrupting his thoughts. "Oh, sorry..." he apologised, pulling it out of his pocket. His face darkened when he saw it was a message from Cliegg. 

<Anakin I know you are angry at me but you could have mentioned you were borrowing the truck>

He tapped back furiously, <whatever, I'll bring it back in a few hrs. why don't you use owen's car? what's his is urs right?>

He saw the 'other person is typing' icon pop up, but then disappear abruptly.  _Yeah, I bet that shut you up, asshole._

"Everything alright?" 

Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, he plastered on a smile. "Sure, everything's fine! Hey, so, I have to take the truck back soon, I kind of borrowed it without asking..."

"Are you admitting to grand theft auto? Perhaps you are on the run from the law, after all," Ben interjected with amusement.

"What?!" He laughed. "No, I meant I borrowed it from my stepdad! But, I was thinking, why don't I run you into Bar Harbor first to pick up a hire car? You really can't survive out here without one. Then I can teach you to drive in the snow before I drop it back." 

"That... actually sounds like a good idea. Alright, let me have a shower and something to eat and we can head out." Ben gestured to the fridge and the food cupboards above the kitchen counter. "Please, help yourself to food in the meantime! I can't imagine you had a substantial breakfast… what with you arriving so  _early_." 

 

* * *

 

"Another happy landing!" Ben said brightly as he skidded the car to a halt outside the house.

Next to him, Anakin's knuckles were white as he gripped onto the dashboard. "I thought everybody drove in LA?!" he half-yelped, half-whined.

"Why, what's wrong with my driving?" 

"What's  _right_  with it?!?"

"Oh, don't be so ridiculous, that journey was absolutely fine. I think I'm getting the hang of this driving in snow business."

Flinging the door open, Anakin practically threw himself out of the vehicle. 

They had gone into Bar Harbor to pick up a hire car, and also to "buy real food because the contents of your fridge are actually tragic", as Anakin had suggested. Ben had tried to be at least mildly insulted, but firstly he knew that the man was probably right, and secondly he somehow couldn't seem to muster up the will to find Anakin's blunt, straightforward manner anything but charming. 

At the hire car place, Anakin had parked the truck and spent an hour taking Ben around a nearby parking lot and some emptier side roads, attempting to teach him to 'glide' on the snow, as he had phrased it. He had eventually thrown his hands up in the air in exasperation after directing them back to his truck, saying, "Jesus, okay, look, just... just follow me back to my stepdad's place, go slow and just... try not to die, okay?!" Ben hadn't seen what all the fuss was about - he thought he'd been doing rather well.

Once they arrived at Anakin's stepfather's house, Ben had waited outside in the car while the other returned the pick-up to the garage. He had been hoping slightly to catch a glimpse of this mysterious stepfather, but Anakin had unexpectedly come straight back to the car after closing the garage door. Ben had begun to ask why he hadn't rung the bell, but Anakin had interrupted breezily and offered to drive the hire car the rest of the way back to the house. "No no, that's quite alright! I'm starting to enjoy it, actually," he had responded merrily, not noticing the slight look of dismay that Anakin had expressed in response. 

Now, he was sat in the front living room drinking a cup of tea and studying a newspaper he had picked up in Bar Harbor, and Anakin was huffing and puffing while carrying his many possessions upstairs. 

"I did offer to help with that, you know!" Ben called as Anakin disappeared back up the stairs with the last enormous suitcase.

"It's ok, I got it!" came the strained reply. 

"Suit yourself," he murmured, turning the page and taking another sip of tea. He had decided to offer Anakin the whole of the third floor to use while he was here, figuring that as they weren't short on space he might as well make the most of it. 

Anakin reappeared after a few minutes, rubbing his hands together. "That's everything for upstairs. Anywhere you'd prefer me to keep my toolboxes?"

Ben looked up from his paper, his hand coming up to rub at his beard as he thought for a moment. "There's definitely space in the garage, or you could put them in the utility room next to the pool if you like?"

"Whoa whoa whoa - pool? When exactly were you going to tell me you had a pool?!"

"Sorry, it didn't occur to me. Is that a good thing?"

"It's a great thing!! Where is it?" Anakin replied excitedly. 

"The utility room is just behind the kitchen, you can get to it through there. I did ask Dex to keep the filters running to try and maintain it - apparently draining it would have been more trouble than it was worth - but I imagine it hasn't been chemically treated in quite some time."

"Are the chemicals in the utility room?" Anakin asked over his shoulder, already heading for the kitchen.

"Wha- hang on a minute, Anakin, do you actually know anything about pool maintenance?!" Ben said, trying not to spill his tea as he struggled to get up from the low sofa and run after him. 

"I'm Googling it now!" came his sing-song reply.

Half an hour later, both their eyes were stinging. Ben shooed Anakin back into the utility room and slammed the door to the pool behind him. "So in fact, your answer should have been that you didn't actually know  _anything_ about pool maintenance!" he fumed. 

"The chemical ratio's off, that's all!" he protested, "If you'd just let me back in there so I can balance it-"

"And let you blow the place sky-high?! Not bloody likely. I'm calling Rex, he seems like he'd know what to do."

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, Rex had known what to do. Upon Ben’s claim over the phone that the chemicals Anakin had added to the pool were possibly causing some kind of toxic fallout in there, Rex had shown up with a full-face respirator mask (which he had explained he normally used for “you know, decoratin’ and shit”) and managed to balance out the chemicals in the pool, firmly instructing them that he had programmed the filters to cycle through at the highest setting, cracked open all the windows and that they weren’t to enter under any circumstances for at least 24 hours.

Anakin was now guiltily cooking them both some dinner in the kitchen – spicy chicken enchiladas, his specialty - which he hoped would suffice as an apology for the pool incident. Ben had invited Rex to stay and eat with them as thanks for coming to the rescue, but he had politely declined, saying something about having to get back for “tonight’s game”. Which game or even type of sport he was referring to, neither of them had a clue. However, when Anakin had let him out of the house while Ben had insisted on moving the pool chemicals “somewhere you can’t bloody find them!!”, Rex had turned to him with a knowing look.

“You didn’t waste any time, did yah?” Rex had said with a sly grin. Anakin had made a face and replied that he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “Then why do I get the feelin’ you being here is somethin’ to do with one of your wild schemes? Although… he’s certainly not your usual type,” the older man had shot back with a wink. Anakin had spluttered indignantly as Rex had set off down the garden path back to his car, cackling obnoxiously. It was snowing heavily again and the wind was blowing in the direction of the house, so he had had to close the door quickly and rob himself of the chance to shout something after the man in retaliation.

He had a fond relationship with Rex that was largely based on mutual teasing. He had first met him when he had been about 12, and had wandered into the hardware store looking for something he could use to repair a CD player. Rex had quickly recognised that Anakin was a lot more savvy about technology than the average 7th grader and they had struck up a firm friendship. He had spent many afternoons with the man following his shifts at Jocasta’s, tinkering with his various projects in Rex’s workshop, learning new skills from him and exchanging friendly insults. Rex had also saved his skin several times in more serious situations. At 15, he had spent the better part of a year in a self-destructive fog following the death of his mother. Rex had been there for him the entire time, and once Anakin had eventually come out the other side of it, it had forged a strong bond between the two.

Finishing up his prep work, Anakin covered the dish of enchiladas with tin foil and slid it into the oven to bake. He set the timer before wandering out of the kitchen to see where Ben had disappeared to. _At the rate he was twitching earlier, maybe he just went and pitched the chemicals right over the cliff._ As he made his way through the house, he picked up the sound of music coming from… somewhere. Getting closer to the sound’s origin, he realised it was an acoustic guitar.  _Is that a CD?_ Something told him to slow his steps, and he cautiously peered around the doorway of the rear living room and realised it was Ben  _playing._

Anakin stood transfixed. The lit fireplace was giving off a peaceful, cosy glow, and snow was falling silently outside the bay window, but all he could look at was Ben. He was sitting on the sofa curled over a black guitar, looking down at his hands with intense concentration. His copper hair had fallen forward over his forehead, and was picking up the firelight so strongly it almost seemed to be giving off a light of its own. Ben’s hands moved back and forth across the strings in a near-hypnotic fashion, and the sound it made was… “Beautiful,” Anakin murmured. He wasn’t entirely sure whether he was talking about the music or the man.

Ben stopped abruptly, looking up in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t realise you were there!”

 _Oh, I’ve ruined it._ He had only watched him for a few minutes, but part of him felt like he could have for hours. “Don’t stop! That was incredible,” Anakin said earnestly.

Ben made a self-deprecating noise. “No, it was just something silly. Just mucking about really.”

“What? You’re kidding, right?”

Ben gave an uncomfortable shrug and smiled weakly. Anakin moved further into the room, almost unconsciously. “I had no idea you were a musician,” he smiled, as he perched himself on the arm at the opposite end of the sofa to where Ben was sitting.

“Something like that,” the redhead replied with a lighthearted laugh.

“Do you play in a band?”

“Oh no, nothing so impressive… I, er, write music for movies, actually.”

“Seriously?! That’s awesome! Have you worked on anything I’d know??” Anakin was thrilled. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone with such a cool job before.

“Oh, I don’t know… I, uh… I did a film about Joni Mitchell last year, I guess you may have heard of that one…”

“Uh, do you mean  _Joni_?! You mean the film that was on practically  _every_   _billboard_  in Palo Alto last Thanksgiving?” Anakin’s eyes were almost bulging.

“Was it?” Ben looked slightly bewildered.

“…Do you seriously think nobody knows about that movie? I swear it just won a ton of awards or whatever!”

Ben let out a strange choked sound, and said hastily, “So, you, er, you like Joni Mitchell then?”

 _Did he just change the subject? What’s with this guy?_  Anakin frowned slightly, but answered the question. “Yeah, I mean… I generally go in for heavier stuff, but I can appreciate her. She’s a great guitarist.”

He seemed to brighten up at that. “She is! I think she’s fantastic. What sort of music do you mean by ‘heavier stuff’?”

“Oh, you know, AC/DC, the Stones, that kinda deal.”

Ben grinned, and suddenly strummed out several chords on his guitar, which Anakin quickly recognised as the intro to ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’. He grinned, delighted. “You know AC/DC?!”

“Anakin, I was once a teenage boy learning the guitar.  _Of course_ I know AC/DC,” he retorted with a smirk. He shifted the position of his hands slightly and strummed some more, clearly on a roll.

“That’s ‘Satisfaction!’” Anakin laughed.

“Good party trick, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot more than that, Ben,” he said earnestly. Ben looked back at him with a strange expression that he couldn’t quite read. He suddenly became aware of a distant beeping noise.

“Ah, saved by the bell! I take it that’s dinner?” Ben said cheerily, standing up a little too fast for Anakin’s liking.  _I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who went so far out of their way to avoid taking a compliment._

 

* * *

 

After Anakin had followed him into the kitchen, he had checked on dinner and then apologetically added more minutes to the timer, explaining, “Sorry, different oven than I’m used to!”

 “That’s quite alright,” Ben smiled in response. “I think I’m going to help myself to some wine. Would you like some? There’s tons of it down in the cellar.”

“… _of course_  this place has a wine cellar. Uh, yeah, sure, I’ll have some. Although, please don’t assume I’m some kind of experienced wine drinker,” Anakin smirked back. “Didn’t you see the shitty beer I picked up in Bar Harbor?”

Ben laughed. “Fair enough. Red or white?”

“I literally have no idea. What goes better with Mexican food?”

“Oh, I don’t subscribe to all that nonsense. To me, good wine is good wine  _is good wine,”_ he said with a mischievous grin. “Come and take a look in the cellar and just pick something you like the sound of. It’s not like anyone else is here to drink it!”

Ben led him back through the house to the entryway, where a small door beneath the staircase led down to the basement.

“About that… I’m sorry about your dad. Jocasta told me the other day.”

Ben paused briefly on the steps, glad Anakin couldn’t see his face from behind him. “Oh… er, thanks,” he said awkwardly after a moment, and carried on down to the glass door of the wine cellar. It was a long, fairly narrow room, built around the supporting beams of the basement with extensive shelves of wine racks along either side.

After Ben let him in, Anakin looked around him with eyes wide. “There must be like… 300 bottles in here!”

“Now now Anakin, a good wine collection is a _highly_  valuable investment,” Ben responded, in an impersonation of his father. After Anakin raised an eyebrow at him, he explained, “Just something my dad always used to bang on about. Now, I am taking great pleasure in drinking it without the faintest idea of what any given bottle is worth.”

“Great pleasure?”

“Ah… yeah. We didn’t really… get on.”

“Yeah, I can kinda see why… no offense,” Anakin said, adding the latter part quickly.

“What do you mean?” Ben looked at him curiously, holding a bottle of white wine he had been examining.

“Oh, just… well, I don’t wanna speak ill of the dead or anything. I guess I just found him a little cold, or whatever. Like when he spoke, what he was saying wasn’t actually what he was thinking at all.”

“…I didn’t realise you knew him.”

“Sorry, that was really rude of me! I… I only met him a handful of times in town before I went away to college, I probably don’t even know what I’m talking about!” Anakin replied, clearly trying to soften the perceived blow.

“No, I… I meant that literally,” Ben began.

Now it was Anakin’s turn to give him a questioning look.

Ben sighed. “…My father and I had a very difficult relationship, one that’s caused me a lot of… stress, and anxiety throughout my life. But, coming here… well, everyone in this town seems to think the sun shone out of his backside, if you’ll pardon the expression. Everyone I’ve spoken to, everyone who realised who I am – they all seem to think that he was absolutely wonderful. It… it doesn’t exactly match up to my experiences of him… I was starting to think perhaps I had… I don’t know… imagined it all.” He replaced the bottle onto the shelf and looked back at Anakin. He was suddenly aware of how handsome the blond looked gazing back at him in the dim, subdued light of the cellar.  _God, he’s… beautiful._

He shook his head slightly and continued. “It’s just… it’s more reassuring than I think you realise, to hear that you uh… you think differently to everyone else.”

Anakin gave him a warm, sincere smile. “Well, I’m glad. I mean, not that you had a shitty relationship – I, uh, can relate to that somewhat – but that you don’t think you’re going mad any more!”

Ben suddenly had an almost violent urge to throw his arms around the man, to bury his head in the other’s neck and breathe in the scent of him. He panicked, looking for a distraction, and seized a bottle of wine at random from the shelf in front of him. Thrusting it out to Anakin, he babbled, “Here, this one looks good! Why don’t you take this upstairs, the food must be done by now – I’m going to, uh, I mean, I just want to check the, er, temperature control is all still working… fine, down here.”

Anakin gave him a slightly alarmed look, but then glanced at his watch. “Ah, shit, I guess we won’t be able to hear the timer down here –” He reached out and took the wine from Ben. “Don’t want to burn the first dinner I make you! See you upstairs in a minute,” he grinned and left the cellar at a run, taking the stairs back up two at a time.

 _Shit,_  Ben thought as he slumped against the nearest supporting column and watched Anakin’s feet disappear out of sight.  _I know what you’re playing at, Ben Kenobi, and you better stop it right now. You are not going to throw yourself at the man you are literally… paying to live with you! You’re probably just… lonely, because of everything with Satine!_ “Yeah, that’s it,” he said aloud to himself. But it didn’t sound very convincing.

 

* * *

 

He was freezing cold, the water churning around him. His feet kicked out frantically, trying to find purchase on the seabed, a rock, anything. The currents were stronger than he was and he fought just to keep his head above the water, gasping and spluttering for breath. Far away on the shore, he could see a figure, standing but not moving.  _Dad?_

He struggled to force himself upwards above the roiling waves, the sea attempting to thrash his limbs in all directions. “Dad!?” he tried to shout, his mouth filling with bitter, salty water. The figure just stood there. He spat it out, trying again. “Dad! The—the water—it’s too strong,” he coughed, “I can’t—”

Distantly, from the shore, he thought he heard the figure say, “Ben?”

He could feel himself tiring, his body not strong enough to maintain the incredible exertion it was taking to try and stay afloat. It was so  _cold_. “Dad, help me— Please!!” His voice was pleading, cracking with the effort, and even in his terror he hated how childlike it sounded.

“Ben?” came the voice again, and it seemed louder, but the man on the shore still did not move.

“Ben!?” a hand grabbed at his shoulder, and his eyes snapped open. He was hyperventilating, his whole body shaking. He felt like he'd been punched in the chest, and all around him was white.

“Ben, what are you doing out here?!”

He swung around wildly to see a young man standing before him.  _Anakin._

“I… I…” he panted, wild eyed, unable to catch his breath. He was slowly becoming more aware of his surroundings – why was he outside? He registered the freezing cold wood of the porch under his bare feet. A furious wind was whipping his hair around his face. Looking frantically around him, he saw there was only white in the place where he knew the front garden should be.

“Ben, it’s a blizzard!” Anakin shouted over the howl of the wind. “Get back inside, you’ll freeze to death!”

The other man grabbed his arm, and in a daze, Ben let himself be led back into the house.


	5. Good Friends

Ben awoke to the buzzing of his phone on the bedside table. He groaned, and with some effort rolled himself over, grasping wildly for it. Eventually, his fingers closed around it and he brought it to his ear after tapping ‘Answer’.

“What are you doing right now?”

“…Quin?” he asked after a moment, stifling a yawn, and squinted bleary-eyed at the digital clock to his left. Its glowing blue digits read  _07:47._

“Who else? Missing me yet, Kenobi?”

“…Quin, it’s not even eight in the morning here, which means it’s before five for you. Why the hell are you up?”

“Did you think I was lying before when I said agents don’t sleep?” came the response. Even half-asleep, Ben could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well, clearly you were lying when you said I’d earned six months of freedom,” he fired back. “I’m hanging up now, Quin. Call me back at a reasonable hour.’

“Wait wait wait! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the time. Late night with a lady friend, if you catch my drift.”

“My finger is on the ‘End Call’ button…”

“Okay, I’m sorry! Shit, sounds like Maine has made you even more grumpy than normal. I wouldn’t have called but there was just something I wanted to talk to you about…”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You can save the sweet talk, Quinlan, I’m too tired for it. What do you want?”

“Ah, Kenobi, you know me too well. I’ve got an opportunity here that I think would be perfect for you. I know, I know,” he said hastily as Ben began to protest. “I know you’re having time out of LA, but the initial consult for this thing would be in New York, and I thought as you were on the East Coast anyway...”

Ben was silent for a moment.

“You still there?”

He rubbed his hand over his face. “Yes, I’m still here… tell me more, then. And that’s  _not_ a yes,” he added quickly.

It was a yes, as it turned out. By the time he hung up the phone, Quinlan had set up a meeting for him in two weeks' time with a man who worked for a major video game production company in New York City, and had specifically sought out Ben to compose the soundtrack for their next project.

A week had passed since Anakin had moved in and saved Ben from nearly freezing to death after sleepwalking out into a blizzard. After waking him up, Anakin had pulled him back inside and placed him firmly in front of the fireplace in the rear living room, which he had stoked back to life in about a fifth of the time it had taken Ben to start it earlier that evening. Wrapping all the blankets he could find around him, he had brought him a cup of tea and then sat with him quietly while Ben slowly came back to his senses and his shivering subsided. They hadn’t discussed it since and thankfully it hadn’t happened again, although unfortunately the nightmares had continued, but now Ben was thinking about how grateful he was for how the other man had handled it as he headed downstairs for a morning swim. After finally emptying his suitcases, he had discovered that in his frantic drunken packing back in LA, at least one  _essential_  item hadn’t been forgotten: swim shorts.

He managed 20 lengths before the urge for breakfast won out. Climbing out of the water, he walked over to the small shower chamber that was attached to the end of the pool room to rinse off the chlorine. He stepped under the showerhead and turned the dial, but instead of water he was met with a strange creaking noise. He looked up in surprise and it gurgled at him, and then abruptly shot out a tepid jet of filthy brown water. “Ugh—” he spluttered, trying to grab for the dial to shut it off while scrunching his eyes shut and trying in vain to move out of its path. “Shit—bloody—!“ He finally managed to grasp it and swing it back off, but not before he was completely drenched.

Anakin was eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen island and reading a text he had just received from Ahsoka. She was back from college for the weekend for her dad's birthday and had suggested they meet for lunch. He was tapping out his affirmative response when he heard the door to the utility room open.

“Er… you know you said you could fix anything,” Ben began with a strained tone.

“Hmm?” Anakin responded, starting to turn his head, his eyes still fixed on his phone.

“How are you with plumbing?”

Anakin looked up and promptly burst out laughing. Ben was standing there in just his swim shorts, covered in dripping brown water and generally looking like a drowned rat. The expression on his face was a deeply unimpressed one.

 “…I’m glad you think this is funny.” He said drily.

 “Oh my god, I’m sorry, you just—” Anakin gasped between laughs, “You just look so— so—“ He gave up as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

After Ben had stomped upstairs to clean up, Anakin went through to the shower room at the rear of the pool. He had been secretly waiting for Ben to use the pool first, as confirmation that it was acceptable after his ‘chemistry experiment’ the week before. Now, he felt slightly guilty that that had meant Ben had been the first one to use this shower. As he tried to diagnose the problem, his mind wandered appreciatively back to the sight of Ben in the kitchen. Somehow, despite being drenched in dirty water, he had still retained some degree of composure. He was more muscular than Anakin had first realised, and his chest and legs were covered in the same dark reddish hair and sprinkling of freckles that he had seen on Ben's arms. The hair on his stomach had converged in a pleasing line below his navel, which led—  _Whoa._ Anakin caught himself, blushing.  _Jesus, I know it's been a while but how about some self-control, Skywalker?! He's straight, not to mention also technically your boss._

He gave his head a firm shake to regain some focus, and eventually came to the conclusion that the shower was most likely connected to a separate water tank due to its distance from the main house. The tank had probably just rusted due to lack of use, and that's what had caused the brown colour of the water all over Ben. A trip back out of the shower room revealed a small, well-concealed cupboard adjacent to it which confirmed his suspicions. He pinged off a text to Rex after noting down the make and serial number to see about ordering a replacement. 

 

* * *

 

The following day, Ben drove Anakin to collect his motorbike. It hadn't snowed again since the night of the blizzard, and the roads were finally clear enough for him to be able to ride it. 

"Need anything while I'm in Bar Harbor?" Anakin asked as they pulled up outside.

"Oh, I think I'll leave those decisions to you from now on. I believe 'tragic' was the word you used to describe my previous attempt at grocery shopping," Ben replied with a smile.

"A statement I still stand by," Anakin shot back with a grin, and reached for the door handle. "Thanks for the ride. I'll see you-"

"Anakin, wait," Ben interrupted.

"What's up?" He turned back, the car door half open.

"...if I didn't say so, the other night... Thank you for bringing me back inside. I don't really... I'm not quite sure..." Ben trailed off, trying to find the words. 

Anakin gave him a warm smile and reached over to touch his arm briefly. "Don't mention it. My brother used to sleepwalk... You didn't freak me out as much as you think you did."

Ben nodded gratefully. 

"I'll see you in a few hours. Just text me if you do think of anything you want me to pick up, you've got my number."

After he'd collected his bike from Cliegg's garage, he rode it over to Bar Harbor to meet Ahsoka in their usual spot, a small café tucked away off one of the main streets. 

Upon entering, he had barely removed his helmet before he was immediately set upon by a fast-moving flurry of limbs and excitement. "Skyguy!!!"

"Aren't you a little big to be doing this now, Snips?" He laughed as he lifted Ahsoka up off the floor with a bearhug in their customary greeting.

"I'll only stop when I'm taller than you," she beamed back. He eventually put her back down and she gestured him over to a table by the window. "I already got you a coffee!"

"I don't know how I've managed without you," he chuckled. "How are you doing, Snips? How's college?" 

"It's great! My classes this year are so much more interesting. Plus I kinda feel like I know what I'm doing now!"

"That must be a nice feeling; I can’t relate,” he deadpanned with a wink. “So when you finish and get a job at the FBI, that means you can get me out of all my speeding tickets, right?"

She laughed. Ahsoka was in her second year of a criminology degree at a college in New Hampshire. Anakin had first met her his senior year in high school, when she had been a freshman. He had come across a group of kids picking on her, and had been about to step in when she had suddenly demonstrated she could more than take care of herself. He had actually cheered when she took the last one down with a well-placed kick to the groin, and they had been inseparable ever since. 

They talked for a little longer about her adventures at college, and she animatedly described the various quirks and oddities of some of her professors so vividly that at one point Anakin nearly snorted his coffee out through his nose. After he'd recovered, she looked at him with a more serious expression.

"So what's new with you? How are you doing? Is it... weird being back home, since... you know..." She trailed off.

He looked down at his coffee. "It's bizarre. I keep expecting to see him, and he's just... not there."

"I'm sorry, Skyguy." She reached across the table to take his hand. "You must miss him so much."

He felt his eyes stinging and the familiar tightness in his throat that meant tears were imminent. He swallowed and quickly changed the subject after giving her hand a quick squeeze and letting it go. "Anyway, I moved out of Cliegg's place, so that's something!" 

"Already? Where? You know Rex's couch doesn't count, right?" She winked. 

"Oh, ye of little faith! Actually I got a job as a live-in caretaker on the other side of town. You remember the old Jinn place, that giant old house on the cliff?"

"Yeah, I remember it! But... I thought he died a few years ago?"

"He did - I'm working for his son, Ben."

"His son?! I had no idea he had a kid!"

"Yeah, he just showed up in town last week out of nowhere, practically. Dex and Jocasta had a field day spreading the news."

"Hah, I bet! What's he like?"

"He's great, I mean, yeah, uh, he's cool," Anakin said quickly, trying to dial back his initial enthusiasm.

Ahsoka gave him a mischievous grin. "I know that look Skyguy. You  _like_  him!" 

"No, I just meant-" he began to protest, but she cut him off.

"I can see right through you, Anakin Skywalker! There's no point trying to lie to me, I've known you waaay too long," she chirped.

He slumped his shoulders and admitted defeat. "Ok, so maybe, I... kind of like him, yeah."

"Ha! Sweet victory!" She punched the air, which attracted some strange looks from the other patrons. Looking apologetic, she lowered her voice. "So? What's he like?"

"He's... good. Like, a good person I mean. He's funny, and intelligent and... a little bit of a dork." A smile crept over his face unconsciously. "Although he drives like a maniac. He's also insanely good-looking, which doesn't help my cause at all. Oh, and—" he raised his eyebrows at her, "He's a  _musician_."

"Ha!" Ahsoka cackled. "You were doomed from the start! But seriously Skyguy, he sounds... kinda great. Like he could actually be good for you. Which would be a welcome change from your usual type," she continued with a pointed look.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Anakin replied with feigned ignorance. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He had a complicated relationship history, which mainly consisted of a series of lovers with very good looks and very bad personalities.

She gave him a hard stare.

"Ok, so maybe... Look, after last year I've been thinking more about the kind of people I spend time with. Losing Owen... well, you know how close we were. How I was at college was… fun, I guess, but more and more I'm realising, when it comes to relationships I'm tired of being with people I just mess around with. I want more than that… I _need_ more than that."

"Well for all you know, this Ben could be that! So, when are you going to make your move?"

Anakin’s shoulders slumped back down. "Look Snips, there's no point me even going there because A, he's my boss and B, I'm 95% certain he's straight," he said despondently.

"95? Why not 100?"

"Just... I don't know, just a look he gave me the other night. It was probably nothing."

"Skyguy, I have known you to take chances that had less than a 1% possibility of working out for you! What gives?"

Anakin frowned. "I don't know, I'm just... I can't stop thinking about this fight I had with Cliegg last week. It's why I was in such a rush to move out after getting back from California. I haven't really spoken to him since. I know I should probably text him but... I'm still so fucking angry."

"That sucks, Skyguy. I'm sorry. You should probably try and patch things up with him, though. After your mom, and now Owen..."

"Yeah, I don't exactly have a surplus of family members nowadays," he said darkly.

"I didn't mean it like that,” she said with a sympathetic look. “Just... isn't it always better to work things out?"

"Ah, sorry Snips, I know you didn't," he apologised. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see."

 

* * *

 

By the time Ben was due to fly to New York for his meeting with Quinlan’s contact, he and Anakin had started to settle into something like a routine. Aside from making them both dinner and generally keeping the old house tidy, Anakin had been busying himself with larger maintenance tasks that Ben hadn’t requested of Dex, like clearing out all the gutters and defrosting the freezer. After Rex had delivered the replacement water tank for the pool shower, Ben had checked in on Anakin midway through installing it to see if there was anything he could help with. The pool room was warm and Anakin had removed his shirt to cool down after a lengthy battle trying to detach the old tank from where it had rusted to the connecting pipes. Feeling like a teenager with a first crush, at the sight of him shirtless Ben had flushed bright red and abruptly turned on his heel, making a swift exit before Anakin noticed him. In the utility room, he had taken a deep breath and tried to remind himself that he was not yet a month out of his long-term relationship with Satine and it was completely inappropriate of him to be ogling a man who was not only ten years his junior but also technically his employee. _But god, he looks good,_ he had thought, despite himself.

As the days had passed Ben had been making a valiant effort to try and remember how to write music for himself, after the months he had spent immersed in the score for the film. He had to admit that coming to a place where he barely knew anybody and completely changing his routine had done wonders for his inspiration, and offered far less distractions than LA – well, aside from the aforementioned tall, tanned distraction currently living upstairs.

Now, Ben was waiting in the front living room for his cab to take him to Bangor Airport. It was further away than the one he had originally flown into, but he could fly direct to JFK and he certainly didn’t fancy taking that boneshaking Cessna flight again, even without a hangover. His meeting was scheduled for 9.00am the following morning, so to save the hassle of an early flight he had decided to travel the night before and check into a hotel for the evening. He had also chosen to leave the hire car at the house in case Anakin needed to use it, as the forecast was threatening snow again.

“There is never anything to watch on this thing,” Anakin complained as he idly flicked through Ben’s Netflix account from his horizontal position on the sofa.

“What are you talking about? There must be hundreds of movies on there,” Ben responded after glancing at his watch.

“Yeah, but there’s nothing I _want_ to watch,” said Anakin grumpily, and then sat up abruptly and looked at Ben. “Hey, is there anything on here that you’ve worked on?”

“Oh, er, I don’t know about that,” he replied awkwardly. “I can’t imagine there is.”

“I’m searching for your name now,” Anakin replied, directing the cursor around the search keyboard.

“Anakin, I highly doubt my name is important enough to qualify for Netflix search criteria,” Ben said sarcastically, but then felt oddly disappointed when the search results came up empty.

Undeterred, Anakin grabbed his phone from the coffee table. “I bet you just can’t search by composer. I’m gonna try IMDb!”

“Hang on--,” Ben began to protest, but then his own phone buzzed to let him know his cab was outside. Giving up and getting to his feet, he continued, “Never mind, my cab’s here. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“I hope your meeting goes well. Bring me some cronuts?” Anakin grinned at him from the sofa.

“What on _earth_ is a cronut?!” Ben said incredulously, carry-on bag in hand.

“It’s half-croissant, half-donut, and I know for a fact they sell those in LA too, old man. Sometimes I wonder if you’re just a really young-looking 70-year-old,” the blond gave him a mischievous smile and winked.

Ben wanted to argue, but he was also having a difficult time ignoring the weak feeling he had just experienced in his knees. “…alright fine, I’ll have a look, but no promises,” he managed eventually. Hearing a car horn from outside, he started towards the front door. “See you tomorrow!”

“Bye, grandpa!” Anakin called after him, and Ben rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Waking unusually early the next morning, Anakin decided to go for a walk on the beach below the house before it was potentially covered in snow again. A gate at the rear of the house provided access to a weathered, wooden staircase of questionable age and condition that led down to the sand below, though it felt sturdy enough to Anakin as he descended it. Wrapped up in his big black winter coat and a slouchy knitted hat he had pulled over his unruly hair, he was currently musing over the last few weeks he had spent at Ben’s place. He considered their recent interactions and Ben’s apparent willingness to engage in borderline flirty exchanges with him, albeit in his own sarcastic way, and made a mental reductive adjustment to the 95% statistic of certainty he had previously given Ahsoka. He still had no hard evidence that Ben was into him, or indeed men in general, but something about a few looks the other had given him – especially after a glass of wine or two post-dinner – were giving him pause for thought. The redhead was obviously accustomed to keeping his inner thoughts closed off from others, but on the occasions where he had gotten Ben to relax a little by talking about his musical interests or his misadventures growing up on the Island, he had started to notice an almost _wistful_ look that appeared when the other felt more at ease with him.

_He’s obviously massively insecure about his musical ability,_ Anakin thought to himself as he watched the waves, quite calm today, lapping the shore. _Which is insane, because he is so clearly the real deal._ He had discovered the minor bombshell that Ben had recently won a Golden Globe award for _Joni_ while snooping through his IMDb page the previous evening. _He sure kept that one quiet. If it was me I’d have made damn sure everyone in Maine knew by now._

His thoughts were interrupted as his eye caught on a shape up ahead on the sand about 20 metres from him. At first he had thought it might be a clump of driftwood, but as he got closer it appeared to be moving. _Is that a seal?_ He quickened his pace and coming to a stop next to it, he realised that it was a dog lying down on the sand. It was a scruffy little thing, with grey and white fur and unexpectedly expressive blue eyes, and its fur was wet and matted, but it smiled up at him with its tongue hanging out. “Hey, buddy,” Anakin said softly as he knelt down next to it and reached out gently. The dog licked his hand with enthusiasm, and as it shifted slightly Anakin noticed a splash of vivid red on its right foreleg. “Hey, looks like you got in a little trouble here, huh?” Scratching between its ears, which the dog seemed more than happy to allow, he couldn’t find a collar or tag of any description. “How the hell did you end up here, buddy?”

The dog panted at him excitedly, its warm breath visible in the winter air.

“Well, I can’t leave you out here on your own,” he continued, tugging off his winter coat and wrapping it around the creature before hauling it up into his arms. The dog didn’t struggle, instead coating the side of Anakin’s face with passionate licks. “Ugh, thanks for that,” Anakin grinned, tilting his head to the side. “Looks like we’re going to pay a visit to an old friend of mine.”

He made his way back to the wooden staircase below the house, the dog apparently quite content to be carried. “What do I call you, huh? You haven’t got a tag or anything.” His thoughts suddenly returned to the companionable old golden retriever he and his mother had had when he was very little, long before she had met Cliegg and they had moved to Maine. He smiled. “Ha, that’s it. You can be Arthur the Second. Artie, for short. What do you think?” Artie’s tongue extended to make adoring contact with Anakin’s nose. “I completely agree.”

After he had grabbed a spare coat from the house and bundled Artie into the hire car, he drove over to the vet surgery in Bar Harbor. He parked up as close as he could and made his way inside, carrying Artie still wrapped in his big winter jacket. Walking up to the reception desk, he said, “Hey there, got a little situation here. Is Padmé working today?”

Before the receptionist could reply, the man was interrupted by an exclamation of, “Ani!?” from the doorway at the back of the waiting room. Anakin looked over to see Padmé rushing around the counter to greet him. With her dark eyes and flowing hair, she was still the most beautiful woman he knew.

“Ani, when _exactly_ were you going to tell me you were back in town?” she cried, throwing her arms around him as best she could and standing up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Sorry, Padmé,” he said sheepishly. “Life kinda got in the way.”

She gave him a knowing look, used to Anakin’s lifelong habit of only doing things precisely when it suited him and no sooner. She knew not to take offense. “And who do we have here?”

“This is Artie. At least, that’s the name I’ve given him,” Anakin said, looking down at the dog, who was struggling to reach Padmé’s face with his tongue. “I found him on the beach just now. No tags, though obviously he might be chipped. He’s freezing and wet, and I think he’s got some kind of wound on his front leg, but he seems in pretty good spirits.”

“Alright, bring him through to the back room here and we’ll see what we’ve got.”

Padmé Amidala had been the love of Anakin’s teenage life before he had gotten a little older and realised he generally preferred people with different anatomy. She had been a junior at his high school when he had started as a freshman, and before she had left Mount Desert Island to go to college, they had grown close while she had tutored him regularly in biology (his least favourite science). Anakin hadn’t seen her in at least a year, but they kept in touch regularly. Padmé had returned to the Island two years previously to take up the assistant veterinary surgeon role that had become available in Bar Harbor, and she was now the head veterinarian. Anakin knew that she was capable of holding her own in a much more prestigious practice – she had obtained her degree in Veterinary Medicine from Cornell - but her grandparents had both been in ill health for several years now, and he understood that she had wanted to be close to them towards the end of their lives. Family was important to her.

“Put him down on the table here, Ani,” she said, gesturing to a metal surface to his left as he entered.

He gently placed Artie down and unravelled the coat from around him. The dog gave him an open-mouthed grin, and he felt a wave of affection for the little pathetic life form he'd managed to pick up.

“I’ll check for a chip first quickly,” she decided, picking up a scanner from the desk beside her. After running it over Artie, she replaced it. “Well, I can’t find one. Do you know of anyone missing a dog in Mt Desert?”

“No, I haven’t heard anything. And it would be all over town if someone was, you know how that place is,” he replied.

“That’s true,” she smiled. “Okay, let’s take a look at this leg, Artie.”

After checking him over, Padmé decided that although the wound on his leg wasn’t serious, she wanted to keep him in overnight on an IV to be on the safe side. He was only a little underweight, but his fur wasn’t in great condition and they didn’t know how long he’d gone without food or shelter, so Anakin agreed with her decision. After a nurse came to take Artie to their holding kennels, she turned to him. “I take it you’ve already decided to keep him?”

“You know me too well,” he grinned back.

“How will Cliegg feel about that?”

“Uh, actually I’m not at Cliegg’s any more. We had a… disagreement, and I needed to move out anyway. I got a live-in job across town.”

“Really? Working for who? And what disagreement; is everything ok?”

He explained briefly about Ben and his connection to the town. In response to the second part of her question, he made a face. “We, uh… don’t exactly see eye-to-eye on how best to deal with losing Owen. He… when I got back from Stanford, he had… ugh, I don’t know, I just feel like he’s trying to brush past it all. It’s weird. I don’t feel like he’s being respectful of his memory.”

“That’s terrible, Ani, I’m sorry.” Padmé reached out and took his hand. “Could it just be a misunderstanding?”

“I don’t know, maybe. Our track record of healthy interaction isn’t exactly stellar,” he said with a weak smile.

“Well, I don’t want to try and make your decisions for you, but… in my experience, there’s almost no situation that a good talking-it-out session can’t remedy.” She gave him a reassuring look.

“Yeah, that’s what Ahsoka said too. Maybe you guys are right… ugh, _okay_ , I guess I’ll stop in on my way back from here. Give this ‘communication’ you both speak of the old college try.”


	6. Trouble Child

"Not here?"

"That's correct, sir."

"...what do you mean, he's not here? This meeting has been scheduled for two weeks!"

"I'm so sorry, sir, I don't know what to tell you."

"Well, I've got a thing or two I'd like you to tell this Mr Clovis. Tell him that he can take his video game soundtrack, and he can..." Ben trailed off as the very young woman behind the reception desk gave him a slightly alarmed look.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly and feeling guilty.  _Come on Kenobi, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar._

"I'm so sorry, I've just had the most awful morning. It was completely unfair of me to raise my voice at you." He offered up his most charming, sincere smile and exaggerated his accent. "Can we start over?"

The secretary gave him a nervous but promising half-smile. She couldn't have been older than 21 at most.

"This has clearly just been some silly old miscommunication," he continued warmly, "And I'm sure Mr Clovis will feel just terrible once he realises his error. After all, I have come all the way from Maine _just_ to see him, and the journey was simply horrific, what with the weather and all." He gave her his best 'give me sympathy' look.

"Oh, that's terrible, you had to fly in this?" She asked earnestly. It was working. He silently thanked the heavens that one good thing had come out of the thunderstorm that had been lingering over New York since late last night. 

"Yes, it was just _dreadful_. So, of course, I know that Mr Clovis will have absolutely no problem reimbursing me for the cost of my travel. Can I leave my payment details with you?"

"Oh, uh..." She hesitated. "I'm not really sure if I have permission to do that, Mr...?"

"Just call me Ben," he leaned on the counter and looked up at her through his eyelashes. Did she just blush a little?

"Well, uh, Ben..." She gave a shy giggle. "I don't know if--"

"And you are?" 

"Oh! Uh, I'm Lyn." She smiled.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lyn," he flirted. "As I was saying, I know Mr Clovis would be just _mortified_ to realise he had missed a scheduled meeting with a Golden Globe winner..." He was starting to make himself feel nauseous now.

"You've won Golden Globes?!" Lyn exclaimed, eyes wide.

"Well, just the one so far..." He looked down modestly.

"Wow..." She sighed. He made a mental note to relay this humorous turn of events back to Anakin later.  _Wait, I meant Quinlan!_ He blinked at himself, thrown off his rhythm by his unexpected enthusiasm to share something funny with a man he barely knew. 

Luckily, the secretary hadn't noticed, and was fully enraptured by Ben's charm offensive. "You're absolutely right Ben, I think Mr Clovis will just be so embarrassed when he gets back and realises what's happened. Here, let me take down your payment details, and I'll also give you my personal e-mail address in case there's anything else I can help you with..."

Half an hour later, he was glad to be out of the rain while queueing in a nearby bakery - he'd found it on Google and it apparently held claim to 'the best cronuts on the Lower East Side.’ He still wasn't entirely convinced they were actually a thing. His mind started to wander and a faint voice that sounded suspiciously like his father disturbed his thoughts, suggesting that perhaps Clovis hadn’t shown because he’d found out that Ben wasn’t as good a composer as he’d first assumed. He frowned. _I should really make a start on finding a therapist to talk to._ To distract himself from both of these inconvenient thoughts, he pulled out his phone to tap out a text to Quinlan.

<Your video game hotshot didn't show for our meeting. Clearly he had more important things to do.>

It vibrated with a reply almost immediately. Was that man ever off his phone?

<wtf that asshole! im sorry ben, didnt mean to send you on a wild goose chase. want me to try and reschedule?>

<No, somehow I don't think our working styles are compatible. It's alright, I used a classic Kenobi negotiation technique to enthusiastically persuade his secretary to process a full reimbursement for my travel costs. Plus I filled my pockets with sweets from their reception area, because I am an adult.>

<LOL. and 'enthusiastically persuade'? turning on the old charm eh? didnt think youd bounce back so soon. bet youve got a hot date lined up with her later>

<Well, I didn't pay for flights and a hotel just to come sightseeing. And I hardly think that's appropriate, a) she was barely of age and b) I’m not you. Besides, I may just have my eye on someone else.> His flirtatious endeavours this morning had left him feeling slightly mischievous.

<WHAT WHO TELL ME EVERYTHING>

<Sorry, must dash! At the front of a queue. Ciao, darling!> He used the facetious sign-off he had devised specifically to wind Quinlan up. Ben figured he usually deserved it. He smirked at the all-caps response, mainly comprised of four-letter words, that he saw pop up as he slipped his phone back into his coat pocket. 

Stepping up to the counter, he gave the man there a cautious smile. "Hello there. I've been instructed to pick up something called a 'cronut'?"

 

* * *

 

Anakin slammed the front door of Cliegg's house shut behind him, his cheeks red and streaked with angry tears. Furious, he thundered down the driveway back to his motorcycle, tugging his helmet on violently and swinging his leg over the bike. He should have known this was a bad idea.

He had stopped by earlier on his way back from taking Artie to the vet's and grabbing an extended lunch with Padmé, and perhaps things would have gone differently if his stepfather had already been home when he'd arrived. As it stood, he had been forced to wait there for the man to come back, and had spent several hours working himself up with nervous energy. He had debated going back to Ben's to wait at least three times, but each time had convinced himself he would lose the nerve to return if he did. 

It had all been downhill from the moment Cliegg arrived home just after seven. The man's face had darkened upon catching sight of Anakin in the front room, and he'd dropped his work bag to the floor with a thud. "The prodigal son returns. And just where the hell have you been for the last three weeks?" he'd said sarcastically after a beat. Anakin had tried to lighten the tone but his anxiety and hurt feelings had won out, and their conversation had rapidly deteriorated into a screaming match. 

Now, as snow started to fall lightly, Anakin attempted to start his bike, but abruptly realised the heat from his tears was causing his visor to fog up. He let out an angry yell and yanked his helmet off to try and crudely swipe at his face with his jacket sleeve. 

When he tried to do the same to the inside of his visor, he only succeeded in moving the condensation around. "Fuck!!" He shouted into the cold evening, and unexpectedly felt a wave of anguish boil up inside him that overwhelmed his rage.

A choked cry burst out of him before he could stop it, and his tears resumed anew. Sobbing, the snow falling gently around him and his helmet discarded in his lap, he held his face in his gloved hands as his body shook.  _Why did I have to lose the two people I loved in this family? I miss them so much and nobody understands._

He didn't know how long he sat there, but eventually his adrenaline subsided enough to make him realise how cold he was. He gave himself a shake and rubbed at his face harshly before taking a deep, shuddering breath and pulling his helmet back on. Kickstarting his bike to life, he wheeled it onto the road and then accelerated sharply in the direction of town. He fully intended to drink this evening's events into oblivion. 

 

* * *

 

Ben sighed as he climbed into a taxi in the steadily falling snow outside Bangor Airport. He had spent some of the return flight searching for available therapists near Mount Desert Island, and had found two or three that looked promising. Eventually, he had sent off an e-mail to each of them after spending several minutes at a loss for how to start. What did one say to initiate contact with a therapist? _Hello, I seem to be spectacularly damaged, do you think you might be able to help?_

He briefly refreshed his inbox on his phone, but found nothing of interest. _Probably too late for them to reply this evening. I suppose I won’t hear back til Monday at the earliest now._ He rubbed his hands over his face. _What a waste of a day,_  he thought tiredly, looking down at the paper bag of cronuts in his lap.  _At least Anakin will get something out of it._

As he watched the flurries of snow rushing past the car window and absently drew one of his pilfered sweets from his pocket, his thoughts turned to his unplanned houseguest, and not for the first time that day. Who was this strange whirlwind of a man who had shown up on his doorstep? Ben thought of him now with a growing fondness. He appreciated the playful, easy manner their conversations had fallen into almost immediately. His relationship with Satine had been passionate and serious, and the loss of it was still causing him pain whenever he allowed himself to think about it too much, but oddly he couldn’t help feeling that he had also been missing someone like Anakin in his life. Where Satine had been composed, elegant, measured - all qualities he aspired to for himself - Anakin was impulsive, intense and had a relentless _brightness_ about him that Ben felt drawn to. He briefly wondered if perhaps his mistake with Satine had been trying too hard to be with someone similar to himself – or at least, to how he liked to think of himself.

About halfway into the journey, he pulled his phone out of his pocket after feeling it buzz, expecting it to be Quinlan's third attempt that day at getting Ben to elaborate on his earlier teasing message. He was surprised when he saw it was from Rex.

<wanted 2 give u a heads up – boy genius got himself into trouble down @ local bar. owner just called me 2 come get him, omw now. dnt no what time ur back frm ur trip but thought id give u some explanation 4 his hangover 2moro>

<What?! Is he alright?> Ben sent back rapidly. 

<abt 2 find out> came Rex's response. Ben was startled by the surprising strength of the concern he felt at the prospect of something potentially having happened to Anakin.

<I'm in a cab from Bangor. Heading to you now.> he sent back, then leant forward to talk to the driver.

"I need to change my destination. Can you take me to a bar in Mt Desert instead? I think it's called The Ca-"

"Cantina?" The man interrupted. "Ayuh, no problem. We'll be theah in 20."

Ben was tapping his foot anxiously without realising by the time his cab pulled up opposite the bar. As he dug in his wallet for the required notes, he distractedly scanned the outside of the building and noticed two men emerging through the front door. Squinting to make them out through the snow, he realised it was Anakin and Rex. The younger man had his arm slung over the elder's shoulders and seemed unsteady on his feet. 

He pushed open the car door after thrusting the notes into the driver’s hand and telling him to keep the change, his carry-on and the bakery bag in hand.

“Anakin? Rex?” He called across the street, casting a quick glance either way before starting across. There weren’t that many cars around now that the snow was intensifying, and everything sounded very quiet.

“Ben?!” He could already hear the slur in Anakin’s voice, and as he got closer he realised that the blond had a split lip and a cut on his left cheekbone, with a bruise already blooming around it. White flakes were starting to settle in his hair.

“Oh my god, what happened?” He exclaimed as he skidded to a stop on the slippery ground in front of them, and barely managed to hand over his things to Rex before Anakin had thrown himself forward to greet him. Ben staggered backwards to stop himself from losing his balance, his arms closing around the other man.

“Nothing serious,” said Rex with a wry smile, letting go. “Wonder Boy here got drunk and decided, in his infinite wisdom, that he was in the mood for a fight. Unfortunately, the friend of the guy he knocked out was in the mood for one too.”

“You smell good,” murmured Anakin, trying to push his face further into Ben’s shoulder.

Ben’s eyes widened slightly as he tried to keep them both standing, and he gave Rex a slightly panicked look. “You drove here, I take it?”

“Ayuh, pick-up’s just around the corner. Walk this way.”

Ben manoeuvred Anakin around so that he was side-by-side with him, with one of the taller man’s arms over his shoulders, so that they could follow after Rex. “Come on, you miscreant,” he said, rather fondly now that his initial panic had subsided.

“You look all… cute… in the snow,” Anakin managed, far too close to his ear. Ben felt a little shiver go through him at the sensation of the other’s warm breath on his neck.

“You look like a bloody mess,” he countered.

Anakin laughed, and then grimaced, bringing his free hand up to the cut on his lip. “Ow…”

“Yes, I can imagine. It’s always less fun when the adrenaline wears off. Come on now, into the truck,” Ben deadpanned, helping Anakin up into the cab as Rex held the door open. Rex handed him his things back and he deposited them into the footwell after he climbed in behind Anakin, who immediately slumped against him and laid his head on his shoulder.

“It’s a good thing the bar owner called you,” Ben said over Anakin’s head, after Rex had climbed up into the driver’s seat.

“You generously assume this is the first time this has happened,” Rex responded drily.

“Ah.” He glanced out of the window briefly as the truck started to pull away, and then suddenly felt a sensation on his neck. He froze and flushed bright red as he realised that Anakin had pushed his scarf aside to press a light kiss to the side of his throat, and cast a self-conscious look to his left, hoping Rex hadn’t noticed.

“So,” he began hastily, trying to divert the blond, “how on earth did you end up in that place tonight, Anakin?”

Thankfully, it seemed to work, and Anakin sat up straight with some urgency. “Oh, well I had the most _wonderful_ discussion with my stepdad. A real heart-to-heart,” he slurred, his tone dripping in sarcasm. “But turned out we didn’t… _agree_ on the correct way to remember my _dead brother.”_ Anakin’s voice was getting louder and Ben was suddenly enormously sorry he had asked. He’d had no idea Anakin had lost a sibling. “So I thought I needed a little drink… or five… to unwind… and then this total _asswipe_ …”

“Okay, kid, we can fill in the blanks,” Rex interjected brusquely, and at first Ben thought he was being unfairly callous, but then realised he was trying to put a spoke in the wheels of Anakin’s momentum. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to register.

“This fuckin’… _guy_ … starts talkin’ _shit_ about stuff that he doesn’t under _stand_ ,” Anakin continued, his anger building.

Desperately, Ben grabbed Anakin’s hand and squeezed, trying to think of something, _anything_ he could say to distract him. “Hey, so… so… I bought you cronuts!!”

Even Anakin was rendered speechless at that. “….huh?”

Behind Anakin, he saw Rex turn his head incredulously, one eyebrow raised. _What?!_ He mouthed.

“From New York!” He continued brightly with wide eyes, trying to keep the other focused on his voice. “Just like you asked me yesterday, remember, Anakin? I didn’t know which flavour you preferred, so I just got you one of every flavour they had, I hope that’s alright!”

Anakin frowned at him, his eyes unfocused, and for one frantic moment Ben was worried he had figured out what he was trying to do. But then a smile began to curl at his mouth, and the expression he gave was so sweet that Ben couldn’t help but smile back, the other’s hand warm in his. “You… you did?”

“Yes, of course!” Ben grinned. “Well, you requested one didn’t you? Although I did feel like a bit of an idiot when I went up to the counter and asked for them. I was convinced they weren’t a real thing and you were playing a practical joke on me.”

 _Nice work_ , he saw Rex mouth at him, and then, he continued out loud, “Ok buddy, you’re home!”

“Already?” murmured Anakin, blinking.

“Come on, let’s get you inside so that poor Rex can get home,” Ben said enthusiastically. He had played the ‘herd-the-drunk’ game many times before.

“Tha…thanks for comin’ to get me, Rex,” Anakin mumbled as Ben helped him down from the truck, his arm around the taller man’s waist to stop him slipping on the snow.

“Yeah, yeah, like I could ever refuse savin’ your skin,” Rex smiled, as he got out after them to bring Ben’s things up to the front door.

“Thank you,” Ben said quietly after they finally made it up the path to the porch, letting Anakin lean unsteadily against the front door frame while he fumbled in his coat pocket for his keys.

“Don’t mention it, kid. Just put a text my way tomorrow mornin’ lettin’ me know he’s all good. Glad to have had your help, and he’s sure lucky he’s got you,” Rex replied. “Been a while since he had someone like you lookin’ out for him.”

“What? What about you?” Ben asked curiously as he tried to shift Anakin to the side slightly so he could unlock the door.

“Ah, you know good and well what I mean,” Rex replied with a meaningful look, and turned away to head back down the path through the snow. “G’night!”

“…niiight!” Anakin called belatedly after him. Ben was momentarily lost for words, but then he remembered they were still standing out in the cold.

“…er, right - come on, you inebriate. Let’s get inside.”

After he led Anakin by the hand into the front living room, the blond sat down heavily on the sofa.

“I’ll get you some water, and something frozen for your face… and perhaps a bucket to be on the safe side,” Ben said, starting to turn away, but Anakin didn’t let go of his hand.

“Don’t… don’t think I didn’t notice you panic, after I kissed you earlier,” Anakin said slowly. Ben paused, unsure of how to respond, and the other continued. “Don’t worry, I’m not tryin’ somethin’… I’m drunk as hell. I just… I was just sayin’ thank you. For comin’ to get me.”

Ben’s face was red again. “Oh…well, you’re welcome. Thought I owed you one after you saved me from turning into a giant icicle the other night.” He attempted a smile.

Anakin finally let his hand go and laid down on the sofa with his eyes closed, shifting around as he tried to get comfortable. “...really wish I’d met you sooner, Ben,” he murmured softly, so quiet Ben almost couldn’t hear him. “Can’t remember the last time… liked someone this much.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he did what he always did, and tried to change the subject. “Ah… I’ll just get you that water.”

By the time he returned with the glass, some frozen peas and a large tub he’d found under the sink, Anakin was fast asleep on the sofa. Sighing to himself, Ben placed them all on the coffee table and pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa over the sleeping man. _So, the good news is the attraction is mutual,_ he thought to himself, sitting down in the armchair opposite and suddenly feeling exhausted. _The bad news is the circumstances haven’t changed and it’s still completely inappropriate for me to feel this way. What the hell do I do now?_

 

* * *

 

Ben’s rude awakening that particular morning came in the form of three consecutive noises.

The first was the chirp and buzz of Anakin’s phone from where he had left it on the coffee table the night before. Then, “Shit, the dog!” Then, louder, “Oh my god why does _everything hurt!?!”_

Ben forced his eyes open and realised he must have fallen asleep in the armchair. There was a painful cramp in his neck from the awkward position he’d been sat in. He blinked several times at the young man clutching at his head on the sofa in front of him, as he tried to process this information.

“Eh…” he cleared his throat and tried again. “Everything hurts because you decided to go out drinking last night and got in a fight… You’ve lost me at the dog, I’m afraid.”

Anakin jumped at the sound of his voice, and looked up at him in surprise. “Ben?! When did you get back from New York?”

Ben stared at him. “You… you don’t remember?” The pale winter sun was streaming through the window onto Anakin, since neither of them had remembered to close the curtains the night before. It lit his dishevelled blond hair in a halo-like glow, and exaggerated the blue of his eyes and the vivid red of the cut on his mouth, which was parted slightly. _How is he still so angelic after the night he had?_ Ben marvelled. _He looks like a Renaissance painting._

Anakin returned his stare blankly and then his eyes widened, causing Ben’s illusion to vanish for now. “…Oh god, what did I do?! Did I fuck up? Shit, I can’t even… did you bring me home? How did I…” he paused, noticing the coffee table in front of him as if for the first time. “…why is there a bag of peas in a tub here?”

Ben couldn’t bring himself to be disappointed. In spite of everything, he started to laugh. He laughed, as Anakin stared at him bewildered, until tears ran down his face and his stomach hurt.

“Oh, Anakin,” he chuckled eventually, bringing a hand up to wipe at his eyes. “You really are something else.” _This is for the best. He doesn’t remember what he said… he doesn’t remember kissing me. Now, just… don’t do anything to make this situation worse, Kenobi._

Anakin gave him a bemused expression. “Is that… good? Or… bad?”

“Oh, it’s good alright.” Ben shook his head with wonder. “I’ll happily explain to you the events of last night, but first… what’s this about a dog?”

“Ah yeah… about that. Could you give me a ride into Bar Harbor? I’d drive myself but… pretty sure I’m still over the limit.”

An hour later, they were standing in the reception area of the vet surgery, and it was Ben’s turn to be bewildered. He was staring, hand at his beard, at a small, scruffy dog with a wide grin and a bright pink tongue that was sitting in a cage on the low table in front of him. The dog had a bandage wrapped around one of its front legs, and Anakin had excitedly informed him that his name was ‘Artie’.

Anakin had asked for Padmé at the counter, but the receptionist had replied that she wasn’t working today. A vet nurse had brought Artie out to them instead.

Slowly, Ben turned to Anakin. “What… _exactly_ … do you mean… you ‘got us a dog’? I was away for _one day!_ Where? _How?!”_

Anakin gave him his most winning smile and explained rapid-fire. “I found him, on the beach below your house yesterday! He’s a stray, and he’d hurt his leg, so I brought him here, and we couldn’t find a microchip when we checked… so… I thought we could keep him?”

 _How on earth is he still so energetic despite being hungover and wearing the consequences of a bar fight?_ _I miss my early twenties,_ Ben thought crabbily. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes in a gesture of exasperation for the second time in just over 24 hours.

Anakin crossed his fingers in his pocket in a childlike action of wishing for good luck.

“…Tell me something, Anakin. Why is it that ever since you breezed into my life from… wherever the hell you came from… I haven’t been able to say _no_ to literally anything you’ve asked?”

The blond’s eyes widened. “Is that a yes?! We can keep him??”

Ben gave him a look of resignation. “ _You_ can keep him. In my house. That’s the offer. You found him, so you look after him, you feed him, you… do everything else, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Yes!!! You won’t regret this, Ben, I promise!” Anakin beamed and flung his arms around Ben in genuine gratitude, then winced as the wound on his face gave a painful twinge upon contact.

“…I’m going outside to wait in the bloody car.” Ben grumbled into his shoulder.


	7. My Old Man

They were strolling along the snow-covered beach below the house, Artie leaving little pawprints as he ran ahead of them. The vet nurse had told them he would probably be tired and want to rest most of the day, but once they had arrived back at the house and opened the car door, he had bounded out and immediately begun to leap around in the freshly fallen snow blanketing the front garden. "I told you we should have brought him back in a cage," Ben had said drily after witnessing his great escape. "No way, dogs don't belong in cages! So… wanna take him for a walk on the beach with me?" Anakin had replied with a hopeful grin. The day was cold but bright with a light wind blowing, and the icy air was doing wonders for his hangover. 

"I can't believe I let you talk me into getting a dog." Ben said with slight amusement as they walked, looking down to adjust the grey scarf he had wrapped around his neck.

"Uh oh... don't tell me you're a cat person?" Anakin asked with mock concern.

"No, no... Well, I mean I do like cats too, but despite my earlier grumpiness I am actually very fond of dogs. An ex-boyfriend of mine had an old black-and-white sheepdog that I adored... I think I was more sorry to see the dog go than him when we broke up!"

"...ex-boyfriend?" Anakin repeated before he could stop himself.

Ben looked at him with a small smile. "Oh Anakin, I know you seem to think I am some kind of curmudgeonly geriatric, but in reality I  _am_  only 34... Either way, bisexuality is hardly a _modern_ concept."

His face didn't betray it, but inwardly Ben was panicking as he then realised the full implications of their exchange.  _Wait... did he think I was straight? Did I just reveal that I'm technically available to him despite telling myself just hours ago not to make things worse?! Great work, Kenobi._

Meanwhile, Anakin's mind was racing. Artie was still bounding ahead as they walked, dashing close to the lapping waves and then retreating. So Ben wasn't just into women... and did that mean...  _All those looks I've been noticing... All those times he seemed really flustered and I just thought it was because he was British and weirdly repressed... Could he actually like me too? The way I like him?_ He was suddenly aware that Ben was speaking to him, and possibly had been for some time.

"Huh?"

"I was asking if you were alright, you had a strange look on your face. You know, Anakin..." Ben paused. "...I can't claim to be a giver of good advice, or if I am I'm certainly no good at following it myself, but... if you ever wanted to talk about the stuff with your stepdad, and... your brother... I'd be happy to listen."

His train of thought fully derailed, Anakin stared at him. Ben looked slightly uncomfortable. 

"…Sorry, forget I said anything, I wasn't trying to pry--" the redhead began, looking away awkwardly.

"No, no, I just... You just took me by surprise. I didn't realise I'd mentioned them to you." He tried to smile reassuringly. "That's... I really appreciate you saying that, Ben. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about causing trouble for you last night. Not that I can remember much of it... but I have no doubt that I did!" His expression turned sheepish.

"It's quite alright, Anakin," Ben chuckled as they continued to trudge through the snow. A light breeze ruffled his hair. "If I'm being honest, you were more endearing than anything else."

Anakin laughed, embarrassed, and brought his hand up to his eyes. "Oh god. Well, I guess I'm glad it ended up that way... I bet I wasn't very endearing earlier in the evening."

"You... You mentioned you had a fight. With your stepdad?" Ben asked tentatively.

"Yeah..." Anakin sighed, and came to a stop on the snow-covered sand. He looked out at the pale, choppy waves as he spoke, not feeling up to eye-contact suddenly. "My, uh... My brother died, last year. He was working as a farmhand upstate... There was an accident with some machinery they were using there. He was...," he paused, trying not to cry as he let himself remember. "...he died in the hospital a few days later."

"Anakin, I am so sorry... I had no idea." Ben came closer to stand next to him, and hesitantly placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "What was his name?"

"Owen," Anakin replied, still looking away, and heard his voice crack slightly.

"Is he the reason why you fought with your stepfather?"

Anakin swallowed thickly, his eyes starting to sting. "I... I didn't tell you, before, but when I showed up on your doorstep that day... I hadn't even been back from California a week."

"Sounds like you were in a pretty big rush to move out," Ben said softly. 

"When I... When I got back..." He sniffed, his battle to stop himself from crying rapidly becoming a losing one. He tried to tell himself it was the hangover that was making him emotional. Exhaling sharply, he looked up. The sky was overbearing and grey.

Ben gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and said, "If you don't want to carry on, it's alright."

Anakin shook his head. "No... It's probably a good idea I get it out. I haven't actually told anyone what our fight was about..." He sighed and tried to compose himself a little. "...A few days after I got back from California, I went up to Owen's old room to... I don't know, just to see it, I guess. To remember him. And... it was all gone."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He'd gutted it. My stepdad. Turned it into a guest room or some shit. Repainted it, changed all the furniture and whatever."  
  
"He... what happened to all your brother's things?"  
  
"I didn't stick around long enough to find out. That was the day I found your ad at Jocasta's, I packed up all my shit that night. But honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if he got rid of everything."  
  
"That's... horrible, Anakin... I'm sorry. Did he say why?!"  
  
"Yelled something when we were fighting about needing to let go of the past, or some crap. He needed to do it to draw a line... I don't know. Maybe it's something I can't understand, maybe I'm too young or whatever, but... why didn't he tell me? Why did he act like such a dick when I confronted him? Like my feelings about Owen don't matter? For so long I felt like he never gave a shit about what I wanted... this just feels like confirmation of everything I was afraid of."  
  
He finally looked up at Ben, and the expression on the other's face brought his tears back with a vengeance. "He's supposed to be all I have left, my mom died when I was 15, and now Owen's gone... It didn't matter that he was only my stepbrother, I  _loved_  him!"   
  
Ben silently pulled Anakin into his arms as the other broke down. They stood for a long time, Anakin crying quietly into Ben's shoulder, and Ben looking out at the sea beyond him. His heart was breaking for the man in his arms.  _No wonder Rex was so grateful I was looking out for him. His stepfather certainly isn't. He’s so young, and he’s been through so much…_

After a while, Ben gently pulled back a little, and put his hands on Anakin's shoulders. "Are you alright?" He asked softly.

Anakin nodded, sniffing. "I think so - for now at least. Thank you... for, you know..."

"Of course. Um, Anakin... I had a thought just now..."

"What is it?"

"...forgive me, if this sounds rude, but... Why did you go to see your stepfather yesterday? It just... It seems strange to me, after the way he's behaved towards you."

Anakin wiped at his face with one glove, wincing as he accidentally brushed over the cut on his face, and then stuffed his hands into his pockets and brought his shoulders up a little as a strong gust of cold wind blew past them.

"I... I spoke to some friends of mine about the fight we had. They said I should probably try and patch things up. Like I said, he's the only family I have left, so..." He trailed off, looking down at his feet.

Ben gently reached up and brushed his hair away from where it had blown into his face. "You… you know you don't have to have a relationship with him, don't you?"

Anakin looked back up, surprised at both the tenderness of the gesture and what Ben had said. "What?"

Ben sighed, turning away slightly to look out over the water. "It's just... I don't doubt that your friends meant anything but well, they obviously wanted a good outcome for you, but... if someone isn't supporting you, considering your feelings... looking out for your best interests... I just... I want to make sure you understand that there’s no obligation for you to be around them. It doesn’t matter who they are." 

Anakin was silent. Ben cringed inwardly and gave the other a sideways glance.  _You had to open your big mouth, didn't you, Kenobi. Could this have anything to do with your own parental issues, perhaps? Stop projecting, for fuck's sake._

But then, unexpectedly, a smile started to form at the corner of Anakin's mouth. He moved closer to Ben, huddling slightly in the wind. 

"Ben... do you realise you're the first person to ever tell me that?”

“Well… I guess it’s just something I wish someone had told me sooner,” Ben replied.

“…Nobody’s ever actually said to me that's it's okay to not want anything to do with him. Everyone else... everyone else said I should try and fix things - that family is important."

Ben returned Anakin’s half-smile and looked down. "Family is only important as long as it doesn't have an ongoing negative impact on you. Also, who's to say 'family' isn't just… I don’t know, the people you choose to have around you?" He sighed and brought his gaze back up to meet Anakin's. Anakin felt a little swell in his chest at how handsome Ben looked in the pale sunlight, with his hair tousled by the wind. "You shouldn't blame your friends for their advice. Unfortunately, sometimes you just have to have experienced these things personally to know that actions are really the only things that matter, when it comes to choosing the people you surround yourself with."

He looked back out to sea, his hands in his pockets. "Anakin, I didn't speak a word to my father for the last five years of his life. It didn't undo the damage he did to me while we did talk, but I have five less years of negative memories than I'm almost certain I would have done otherwise. I don't regret it. You can only start to heal once you remove the thing that was hurting you." Then, he laughed, struck by the irony of what he'd just said. Anakin raised an eyebrow at him. "At least, that's what they say. I haven't quite figured out how to apply that last part to my own life yet." 

As Ben smiled to himself, Anakin saw him as if for the first time, and felt the ember of his attraction spark into something deeper. Here was this man, whose life he had all but forced into a collision with his own, comforting him without judgment and speaking to him from his heart. Ben wasn't telling him what he thought was the ‘morally correct’ thing to do, but nor did Anakin think he was just saying what he thought Anakin wanted to hear. He was simply proposing another way out of the situation in which Anakin had found himself, and had agonised over for weeks, in the hope of offering him a chance not to be hurt by it any further. In that moment, Anakin felt a deep affection he didn't think he had ever felt romantically before. 

 

* * *

 

Once they had returned to the house, Ben decided to offer to make Anakin dinner for a change. He knew he wasn’t exactly a wonderful cook, but the younger man had had a rough night and it felt appropriate. He left Anakin at the house with Artie while he ventured out to town to pick up ingredients and supplies for the dog. He had settled on making a roast dinner – his mother had used to cook them every Sunday back in England, how hard could cooking one of his own be?

In town, he caught up briefly with Jocasta in the General Store as he paid for his groceries. She had – of course – heard about Anakin’s misadventures the previous evening, and Ben had had to reassure her that he was completely fine, no lasting damage done. And yes, they had a dog now. After he left, he had stopped into Dex’s to pick up a cherry pie from the dessert cabinet. He could appreciate that the prospect of making dinner _and_ dessert from scratch in one evening was one he wasn’t keen to challenge himself with.

A little later, he slid the trays holding the potatoes and the chicken into the oven and set the timer. Everything seemed to be going well so far, he thought. Anakin was sitting at the kitchen island with Artie on his lap, feeding him peanut butter off a spoon.

“I see you’re putting all the dog food I bought earlier to good use,” Ben said with a wry smile.

“He’s recovering! Everyone has a right to eat junk when they’re sick.”

“So spoiling him rotten is our plan for him going forward, I take it?”

“I can’t help it, Ben,” Anakin grinned, and shifted him to sit in his lap like a small child so that he could hold Artie’s paws up at Ben, bringing his head in close next to the dog’s. “Look at this face. I can’t say no!”

 _I know the feeling,_ Ben thought.

Artie squirmed and freed himself from Anakin’s grip, clearly unimpressed at being used in such a manipulative manner. He leapt onto the floor and ran out of the kitchen.

“That’s what he thinks of your nonsense,” Ben chuckled.

Anakin laughed back. Then he abruptly stood up from the high stool, reaching his arms into the air in an exaggerated stretch. As he did, the grey t-shirt he was wearing rode up and revealed his toned lower stomach and the little trail of dark hair there, his black jeans slung low around his hips. Ben had to avert his gaze to discourage indecent thoughts.

“Hey, Ben?”

Ben looked back with mild alarm, hoping his face wasn’t red.

“You know that big old piano in the library? Well… can you play it?”

Surprised, Ben smiled. “God, that old thing. Yes, I can play it. Why do you ask?”

Anakin looked hopeful and asked hesitantly, “Would you play it for me some time?”

“Oh!… Well, yes, alright, I don’t see why not. There’s still plenty of time before I have to check on all this… I can do it now if you like?”

“Really?” Anakin hadn’t really expected him to say yes, at least not so quickly.

“Of course. After you,” he said with a mock-gentlemanly bow.

After he followed Anakin into the library, Ben sat himself down at the piano and lifted the lid on the keys. “This can’t have been played in years. It won’t sound that great I’m afraid; it almost certainly needs tuning. So, what would you like to hear?”

Anakin had brought over a small armchair from the corner of the room and placed it next to the piano stool. At Ben’s question, he paused. “I… uh… I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

Ben smiled. “Not to worry, I’m sure I can find something.” He got up and opened the piano stool, which held a stack of his old sheet music and practice books. “Let’s see…” he said, pulling them out to flick through them. “Ah! This will do nicely. Tchaikovsky is one of my favourites. This is a piece I’m very fond of, although I admit I can’t remember the last time I played it.”

Anakin sat himself down in the armchair, leaning forward to see the sheet music Ben had selected. “Looks complicated. What’s it called?”

“ _Méditation.”_ Ben replied, replacing the rest of the pile into the piano stool.

Surprised at the authenticity of the accent with which Ben had spoken, Anakin wondered aloud, “Do you speak French?”

“ _Bien sûr, mon cher._ Only conversationally though, these days. Now be quiet and listen. And turn the pages for me when I tell you to!” After he had positioned the music, Ben stretched his fingers slightly, and then placed his hands to the keys and began to play.

Just as he had been when he had walked in on Ben playing the guitar, Anakin was captivated from the start. The piece started slowly, gently, and then gradually began to build into something more powerful. Even his untrained ear could detect that the piano wasn’t perfectly in tune, but to Anakin it sounded like the most beautiful piece of music he had ever heard. He smiled at Ben’s upright posture and exaggerated gestures as his fingers flew across the keys, and was so engrossed he nearly missed the first time the redhead gave him the nod to turn the page.

He watched as Ben seemed to sway with the direction of his hands, and realised at certain parts that he wasn’t even reading the music – his eyes were closed. Somehow, what Ben was playing sounded earnest and sincere to him, but he wasn’t sure if it was the music or the musician. It was certainly very romantic. The piece was only about five minutes long, but just as before Anakin felt he could have listened to hours more. _I can’t believe he’s so modest about this stuff,_ he thought to himself. _It’s like he doesn’t even realise it’s something special._

As the sheet music came to an end, Ben finished with the extended series of delicate trills that the piece called for, and upon finishing drew his hands away from the keys before shaking them vigorously. He gave a little laugh. “Ouch! I’m rustier than I realised.”

“Ben… that was incredible. Thank you… thank you for playing it.” Anakin struggled to get the words out.

“Oh, I don’t…” Ben began, but then unusually caught himself as he attempted to deflect the compliment. _I should stop doing that. He’s not the type to say that kind of thing without meaning it._ He smiled at the blond warmly and finished, “…Thank you, Anakin. You’re very welcome.”

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, cooking a roast dinner was _not_  a skill Ben possessed. After they had sat down at the dining table to eat, Anakin had taken a bite and made a strange face, and then Ben had followed him, abruptly exclaiming, “Fucking _hell_ , that’s atrocious!” After a beat, they had both looked at each other and burst out laughing. Ben swiftly deposited all evidence of his failed culinary endeavours into the garbage, while Anakin quickly threw together some pasta with the leftovers of a sauce he’d made earlier in the week. The blond’s face had lit up with a mixture of delight and relief when Ben had revealed he wasn’t responsible for the dessert.

Now, they were seated on the sofa in the rear living room in front of the crackling fireplace, eating the pie Ben had picked up from Dex’s earlier and drinking some red wine that Anakin had selected from the cellar. Artie was snoring contentedly in the bed Ben had found for him in town earlier, and which Anakin had placed in front of the fire.

"God, this is good! No offense, but I'm really glad you didn't make this," Anakin said through another mouthful.

Ben laughed. "Yes, I think we can both agree cooking is not my strength. My sincerest apologies again." 

“Ah, don’t worry about it. And cooking might not be, but music certainly is! Seriously Ben, I know I’m no expert but… that really was amazing earlier. Where did you learn to play like that?”

Ben smiled shyly. “Well, I’ve been playing since I was seven, but I think my time at the Academy is largely what got me to where I am today.” He noticed Anakin’s blank look. “Er, the Royal Academy of Music… it’s a famous old conservatoire in London. Although I did my Master’s at Juilliard, in New York – you might have heard of that one?”

“Whoa… is that the one where, like, a ton of famous actors and musicians went?”

Ben chuckled. “Yes, something like that.” He looked down at his bowl to manoeuvre another piece onto his fork, and when he glanced back up at Anakin he gave a sudden laugh.

"…What?!"

"You've, uh...got a little something there."

"Where, here?" Anakin swiped at the clean side of his mouth.

Ben chuckled again, reaching forward. "Here, let me get it for you." He gently rubbed his thumb over the errant blob of cherry filling on Anakin's cheek.

Anakin gave an embarrassed grin. "Sorry... It's just really good pie."

Ben smiled at him and then absently brought his thumb back to his mouth to suck the filling off of it. He belatedly realised how the gesture must have looked, bringing his eyes back up hesitantly to meet Anakin's with his thumb still resting on his lower lip. 

Anakin's eyes widened at the same time as his did. Ben felt colour rushing to his cheeks and he quickly moved his hand away. "I, uh..."

As he trailed off, Anakin wordlessly took both of their bowls, placed them on the floor in front of them and then leaned forward and brought his lips softly to Ben's. After he recovered from the initial shock, his eyes fluttered shut as he allowed the blond to kiss him. He tasted like cherries and red wine, and Ben could feel the cut on Anakin’s lip from last night with his tongue. Their lips moved gently over one another’s and Ben's heart surged. 

Anakin tentatively ran his tongue along Ben's lower lip and then bit down gently, evoking an involuntary low moan from the other. He moved closer, bringing one hand across to hold onto Ben's waist, pushing into the kiss more insistently. 

The movement jerked Ben out of his trance.  _You shouldn't be doing this, it's not right._  He gasped and broke away, scrambling up off the sofa. "I'm sorry - I shouldn't have -" he said, panicking, taking a step backwards and nearly falling over the armchair behind him. He backed around it, not taking his eyes off Anakin. 

"Wha-- Ben, what's wrong?"

"It's not you - I'm, I'm sorry -" Ben turned and all but ran out of the room. In his head, a bizarre and ancient memory, something Qui-Gon had cruelly said to him when he'd first come out at 18, forced its way to the surface.  _"Well, I suppose I shouldn't expect grandchildren, then."_ In the man's defence, he had actually become very accepting of Ben's orientation as time went on, but that initial barb had clearly stuck. 

 _Fuck off Qui-Gon,_  Ben thought viciously as he retreated upstairs to his bedroom. His feelings for Anakin weren't inappropriate because he was  _male;_ they were inappropriate because the balance of power between them was so uneven. Anakin's age meant he was at a completely different stage of his life, and he was working for Ben, and he didn't have anywhere else to live - Ben certainly wasn't about to send him back to his stepfather.  _I need to be the mature one here. It doesn’t matter what I want, I mustn't take advantage of him._

In front of the fireplace, Anakin's heart stung with Ben's apparent rejection.  _Did I read him all wrong? Oh my god, I'm such an idiot - was he just being friendly all this time? Am I really so fucked up that I'm prepared to throw myself at the first guy who shows me a bit of respect?!_

He thought about the string of casual relationships he'd left behind him in California. Anakin knew how attractive he was, he wasn't blind, but unfortunately that had meant a lot of interactions with people who were interested in his face and his body, and not much else. In contrast, Ben seemed almost not to notice Anakin's appearance - or if he did, he was good at hiding it - and was far more interested in getting to know him as a person. Anakin slumped back on the sofa with a huff.  _Why can't I figure him out?_

 

* * *

 

Ben's eyes snapped open. He'd been having the nightmare again. Breathing heavily, he tried to shake off the imagined sensation of water filling his lungs. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realised in a panic that he wasn't in his bed.  _Fuck, not this again._ Disorientated, he tried to place himself within the house. Looking down, he realised his hand was on a door handle.  _...the foyer. I'm at the front door._

He let go, feeling distressed.  _Why does this keep happening? What's wrong with me?_ He brought both his hands up to his face, and rubbed at his eyes for a long moment. Then, the events of the previous evening flooded back to him, and he cringed. Sleep had allowed him distance enough now to consider how Anakin must have felt when he had leapt away from him.  _God, he must hate me. He'll have thought it was a rejection. Poor Anakin._

He turned away from the front door, not really knowing where he was heading instead. He didn’t feel like trying to get back to sleep just yet, for fear the nightmare would resume. _Maybe I could explain… make him see that’s not fair of me to… would he understand? If the circumstances were different… God, but every time I’m alone with him it gets worse. I take one look at him and I melt. I haven’t felt this kind of infatuation since I was a teenager, and it’s all happening so fast. With Satine, there was ardour but no urgency… this is so different to that. I can’t seem to get a hold of myself._

When he emerged from his reverie, he found himself in the library for the second time that evening. He smiled as he looked at the Steinway, which seemed absurd and almost comical in its size. He remembered when, during his customary winter holiday visit, Qui-Gon had led him into the library on the evening of his 17th birthday and proudly presented it to him. He’d been so intimidated by it, and how much money it had clearly cost his father, that he had been afraid to play it for the remainder of the holiday out of fear he would damage it. Playing it earlier for Anakin had been a nice departure from those memories.

He sat down on the piano stool, leaning forward to hang his head and sigh heavily. Eventually he sat back up and let his eyes roam across the well-stocked bookshelves. There wasn’t an inch of spare space. _What will I do with all these? Should I sell them? That’s one thing Qui-Gon got right at least… I was never in want of a book growing up._ His eye caught on the old spine of ‘Treasure Island’ and made a small noise of surprise. “Hello, old friend.” He stood and crossed over to the shelf, extracting the book carefully before returning to his seat. Qui-Gon had read this to him over and over at bedtime when he was very small, before his parents divorced. Each time his father would reach the end, Ben would beg for him to start over.

He opened it up, and ran his finger over the old illustrated map inside the front cover. He remembered staring at this image obsessively as a child, trying to picture the island and its landscape. Flicking through the pages, he breathed in the smell of old book that wafted up. Noticing a slip of paper tucked inside about halfway through, he paused and opened it at that page. _What’s this? Something I wrote when I was little, maybe?_ But when he looked closer he realised it was his father’s handwriting. It was dated at the top. _Jesus, that’s not long before he went._

He started to read.

_I fear my illness is reaching its final stages now, and that I do not have much time left. I feel it necessary to write these thoughts down as I look back upon my life. My greatest disappointment has been with regard to my only son, Ben –_

He jerked his head back as if he’d been burnt and snapped the book shut violently. Drawing his arm back, he hurled it full force across the room where it slammed into the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster, and hit the ground with a dull thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to listen to the piece that Ben played for Anakin, it's real and you can find it [here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXk50yqo4bs)


	8. Blue

Anakin twisted his body and used his feet to kick off from the pool wall to start another length. He had hoped that coming down for a swim would provide some calm for his thoughts following the events of the previous evening, but his mind was still racing.  _I know he likes me, I know I haven’t been imagining it,_ he thought with frustration, his toned limbs pulling him through the water in a powerful front-crawl.  _He kissed me back, I felt it. So why did he freak out?_

He replayed the night before in his head as he swam, trying to figure out why Ben had pulled away.  _I leaned forward to kiss him, he kissed me back… God, kissing him felt good… and then I moved in closer and that’s when he panicked. So he wanted to kiss me, but something made him stop. What did he say… something about he shouldn’t have? And that it wasn’t me._ Exasperated, he stopped his progress and instead rolled over in the water to float on his back.  _Is it because I’m working for him? He feels like he’s being inappropriate, maybe? I mean, I guess in some situations it could be pretty questionable behaviour… but he must know I want him too? I kissed him, I thought I was making my feelings pretty damn clear..._

He sighed melodramatically, and stopped floating to bring his feet back down to the pool floor. Swimming idly to the steps, he climbed out and crossed over to the pool shower. He turned it on and noted with a smug smile that it continued to work perfectly since he had fitted the new tank. Running his fingers through his hair under the hot water, he thought back to the day Ben had shown up half-naked in the kitchen after it had sprayed rusty water all over him.  _Fuck, he looked so good._ Heat flushed to Anakin’s cheeks at the mental image and he felt the hint of arousal start to materialize low in his stomach. It wasn’t the first time Anakin’s thoughts had returned to that particular day.  _Damn you, you hot British mystery. How did I go from just hoping we might have a little casual fun together, to not being able to stop thinking about you all the damn time?_

He continued to picture Ben as the water ran over him, letting his mind wander about the concept of what he might look like without  _any_ clothes on. He thought about sliding his hand down inside his swim shorts, but then caught himself.  _Goddamn it, Skywalker. Control yourself! Five minutes ago you were whining about this guy turning you down for a kiss, and now you want to touch yourself over him?! What is wrong with you?_ Annoyed at himself, he grabbed the shower dial and swung the temperature right around, then cursed loudly as the water turned frigid.

Later on in the front living room, Anakin was cuddling Artie on the sofa and watching a mediocre movie about World War II when his phone buzzed. It was a text from Ahsoka.

<How’s it going with your cute boss?>

He rolled his eyes and tapped back, <don’t even ask. i kissed him last night and then he freaked out. feel like an idiot>

<:( Oh no! I’m sorry Skyguy. Do you want to talk about it?>

<not right now. thanks tho snips. maybe once i feel less like a fuck-up>

He sighed, and then glanced at the clock on his phone.  _18:38._ Speaking of his ‘cute boss’, where was Ben? He hadn’t seen him all day. Had he gone out somewhere?  _Oh god, don’t tell me I literally scared him all the way out of his own house._ Glancing back at the TV, he suddenly became far more irritated by the poor quality of the film than he had previously been. He turned it off abruptly and then gently turfed Artie off of his lap, deciding to retrieve the book he was currently reading from his bedroom in the hope that it would provide a better distraction from his feelings.

Artie ran ahead of him as he trudged up the front staircase. As he turned the corner onto the first floor landing, he noticed that Ben’s bedroom door, which was the first on his left, was ajar. Before he could stop him, Artie nudged the door open and ran through. “ _Artie!”_ Anakin hissed. Hesitantly, he stepped up to the doorway and peered in, and was surprised to see a shape under the covers on the bed.  _What? Has he been in bed all day?_

Artie leapt up onto the bed and the shape moved slightly. “Ben?” He called tentatively.

No response.

“Ben, are… are you okay?”

He heard a faint sigh, and then a muffled reply. “…I’ve been better.”

Anakin stepped into the room, concerned. “Have you been up here all day? I… I thought you might have gone out. Are you sick?”

“…something like that.” Ben still hadn’t moved from under the covers. His voice was quiet, and nearly a monotone.

Anakin walked around the bed. Ben was lying on his stomach with his head turned to one side, the comforter mostly covering him. As Anakin stepped into his line of sight, Ben moved his eyes to look at him, but nothing else. His copper hair was untidy, and the dark circles under his eyes surprised Anakin.  _If he’s been in bed all day, why does he look so tired? Maybe he actually is sick._

“Ben, what’s wrong? Is… is this because of last night?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“…okay, but then, what?”

Ben sighed. He shifted position a little, but remained lying down. “…I believe it’s what’s referred to in the medical profession as a ‘depressive episode’.”

“What? Uh… well, um…” Anakin didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

“I've had them before... though not for a fairly long time. I expect it will pass in a day or two."

"Uh, I..."

"Sorry."

“Huh?”

“…About all this. I promise it’s nothing to do with last night.” He gave a little snort. “I thought I was joking before when I said you’d run for the hills when you discovered my various neuroses. Now you must think I’m rather unhinged.”

“Uh, no, it’s not that… I just…” He was struggling to process the situation. A depressive episode? But it wasn’t related to last night? So what had brought it on? He didn’t really feel it was appropriate to ask. Suddenly, something occurred to him and he decided how he was going to help. “I’m gonna make you some dinner. You can’t have eaten anything today.”

Ben blinked at him from his horizontal position, as if he hadn't expected him to say that. “… Anakin… it’s okay, you don’t have to do that. I’m… not really hungry. Just… I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“No, you need to eat. I’ll be back in a bit. Come on, Artie.” He picked up the dog from where he’d made himself comfortable on Ben’s bed, and marched out of the room with renewed purpose. He didn’t quite know what to make of this new development, but Ben had said twice it wasn’t about last night, so he had decided to take him at his word. There was obviously something more serious going on and he was concerned about Ben, so his feelings for the other would just have to take a backseat for the moment.

Lying in bed that night Anakin couldn’t sleep, too preoccupied with the evening’s events. He had made Ben some soup and bread for dinner, and sat with him while he made a half-hearted attempt to eat some of it. He had tried to coax Ben into explaining further about what had caused this, but the redhead had remained tight-lipped. Anakin got the sense that he was embarrassed more than anything.  _He doesn’t like me seeing him like this. But he’s not angry, just… resigned, like he thinks he can’t do anything but wait it out. I wish he would talk to me._ Anakin thought back to the day before, when Ben had comforted him over his argument with Cliegg and his grief over losing Owen. The way Ben had dealt with the situation had meant an incredible amount to him, and he had felt so much less alone after talking to him about it. It was part of the reason Anakin had been so ready to kiss him last night.  _I just want to be able to do for him what he did for me._

He was brought back into the present by the dog, who had previously been asleep on his bed, sitting up all of a sudden. Artie’s ears pricked up, and he turned his scruffy head to the doorway. “What is it, boy?” Anakin asked.

He heard a noise from the floor below. Was that a shout?  _Ben?_

Artie jumped off the bed and ran out of the room, and Anakin had to detangle himself from his heavy comforter before he could scramble out of bed and follow him. The house had cooled in the night and Anakin slept shirtless, and he felt a chill bring goosebumps out on his exposed skin as he headed for the stairs down to the first floor. Coming along the hallway he saw that Ben’s door was wide open, and he was pretty sure he had closed it behind him when he had left earlier in the evening. He gave a cursory glance inside and his suspicions were confirmed – Ben wasn’t in there.  _He must be sleepwalking again._ He rounded the corner on the landing as he spotted Artie perched at the top of the stairs to the ground floor, and stopped abruptly as he saw Ben halfway down, facing away from him.

Hesitating, Anakin decided he would try and get in front of Ben on the stairs and gently turn him around. The last time this had happened, Anakin had panicked because of the blizzard and also because he hadn’t been sure what was going on, and had woken Ben up. The other had been distressed and disorientated, and it had taken a long time for him to come back to his senses. Anakin didn’t really want to put him through that again.

He slowly descended the stairs behind Ben and tried to slide past without brushing against him. As he successfully reached the steps below and turned to face him, the redhead gave an unexpected shout that sounded to Anakin like “Dad?!”, and which caught him by surprise in the silent house. Artie barked at the noise and Ben’s eyes flew open, wild and unfocused. Staggering, he lost his footing on the stairs, and thinking quickly Anakin pulled him into his arms before he could fall and braced them both against the staircase wall.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” he said quietly into Ben’s ear, trying to stay calm even though the flash of adrenaline that had just shot through him was making his heart pound.

Ben was shaking, hyperventilating, his head buried in Anakin’s shoulder. “Wha… where am I? Anakin? What…”

“You were sleepwalking again. Shh, try and take some deep breaths. We’re on the staircase in your dad’s house.”

They stayed there for a few minutes, Anakin holding Ben close to him and the other trying to slow his panicked breathing. After a while, Ben pulled away slightly, muttering, “I’m… I’m alright… sorry, sorry…”

“Will you stop apologising? Here, let’s get you back to bed.” Anakin brought one arm down to Ben’s waist so that he could support him back up the stairs. The other was still unsteady on his feet.

“Honestly, Anakin – I’m fine –“ Ben tried to protest.

“Mm-hmm. Sure you are. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop helping you.”

Once Anakin sat him back on his bed, Ben had recovered a little more. He rubbed his face in an exasperated gesture, and said quietly, “I don’t know why this keeps happening.”

Anakin sat next to him on the mattress. “It’s only happened twice. It’s probably just stress, or something.”

“…three times.” Ben admitted after a moment. Anakin turned his head to look at him in confusion.

“It happened last night too. I woke up with my hand on the front door handle. Clearly I was trying to get outside again.”

“…are you dreaming? While you… you know…”

Ben sighed tiredly, looking down at his hands in his lap. “Yes. It’s a drowning nightmare. I used to have these… night terrors… when I was a boy, always the same dream. It comes from something that happened when I was little, although the imagined version is far worse than the reality was. I hadn’t thought of it for years until I came back to this bloody house… now I’ve had it nearly every night.”

“Ben… is it…” Anakin hesitated. “…Is it anything to do with your father?”

Ben looked up at him sharply. “What makes you say that?”

Anakin glanced away uncomfortably. “Just… on the stairs, when you were still asleep… you shouted ‘Dad’ real loud. It’s why Artie barked and you woke up.”

Ben was silent and looked back down. Anakin placed a hand on his shoulder, unconsciously mirroring Ben’s own gesture of comfort from the day before.

After a moment, Ben said reluctantly, “I… I’m just… dealing with some very difficult memories of my father at the moment, Anakin. I came back to Maine to try and confront them, but… it’s not really going very well. He’s the reason I’m… like this…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at nothing in particular.

Anakin listened soundlessly, not wanting to interrupt for fear Ben would clam up again.

“…I’ve been lying in bed all night, afraid to go back to sleep. It… it feels so real, the nightmare. Like I can’t breathe, like the water is actually filling my lungs. Plus, I’m terrified I might get outside again, and then God knows where I’d go after that. I must have finally dozed off though… I’m lucky you were here to stop me.”

Anakin was worried. Sure, he’d been awake by coincidence tonight, but he hadn’t heard a sound the night before. He glanced over at Ben’s bedroom door, and noticed that there was no lock on it.

“…Maybe I should sleep down here with you.”

“What?” Ben looked up at him with slight alarm.

He realised how it must have sounded, and panicked. “-No! Not like that... I just mean... look, it was only by chance I was awake tonight when I heard you shout. If I’d been asleep, it probably wouldn’t have been loud enough to wake me. I didn't hear anything last night."

Ben frowned. “But… you heard me before… the blizzard…”

“I was awake that night too. I was up watching some shitty movie on my laptop and trying not to think about the argument I’d had with my stepdad. You know how the front door sticks in the cold? The sound it makes when you get it open, you can hear it through the whole house. You must be pretty strong in your sleep.”

“Anakin…” Ben began. “I… don’t think it’s really appropriate for me to let you… especially after…”

Anakin interrupted him, sitting up a little straighter in defiance. “I don’t really care what you think is appropriate right now, Ben. There’s clearly something between us that you aren’t ready to deal with, and that’s fine, we can put that aside for now. My main concern at the moment is you not wandering off outside in your sleep, especially when the weather is like this. If you were out there long enough, you could actually freeze to death.”

Ben was quiet, embarrassed. He clearly hadn’t expected Anakin to call him out on his reaction to their kiss right at that moment.

A little more kindly, Anakin continued, “Look, I just… you hired me to be your caretaker, didn’t you? So just… let me take care of you.” He had mostly convinced himself that wanting to sleep in the same bed as Ben was everything to do with keeping him safe, and nothing whatsoever to do with his burgeoning feelings for the man.

“Anakin, that’s not what that means –“

“Shh. Now get back into bed.”

As he brought his legs up begrudgingly and shuffled over on the mattress, Ben gave him a look as if to say,  _I know what you’re doing._

Anakin returned his gaze evenly with a look of his own that said,  _I know you know, and I’m choosing not to care,_ and climbed into bed next to him.

 

* * *

 

Ben’s prediction that the episode would only last a day or two had, unfortunately, been an underestimation. After four days of him not wanting to get out of bed and barely eating, Anakin was starting to worry. He had been spending each night sleeping next to him, and had had to stop him sleepwalking twice more. Even on the nights where he hadn't, Anakin could tell the nightmares were still happening regularly. However, when the other was sleeping peacefully, he was having a hard time trying to ignore how nice it felt to lie beside him. Earlier that morning, Anakin had awoken curled around Ben, who had still been asleep. He had lain there for longer than he cared to admit, just feeling the rise and fall of Ben’s chest and the warmth of his body against him, before he had finally extracted himself and gone downstairs to make them some breakfast.

After he had delivered a small stack of blueberry pancakes up to Ben’s bedside table, and tried to encourage him to eat more than one bite, Anakin decided to pay a visit to Rex for some advice. Before he left, he had gently suggested the concept of a shower to the other from the doorway, in response to which Ben had good-naturedly (at least, he thought) flung a pillow in his direction. 

He swung open the door to Rex’s store, letting Artie run in ahead of him. His journey into town had doubled as the dog's morning walk.

Rex was kneeling on the floor in front of one of the shelves, rearranging some stock. Artie ran over to him and jumped up to vigorously lick his ear, causing Rex to overbalance and fall onto his back as Artie climbed all over him. “What the –“

“Rex, meet Artie!” Anakin grinned, pulling off his hat and stuffing it into his coat pocket.

Rex looked up at Anakin from the floor with a raised eyebrow, while simultaneously trying to deflect Artie’s endeavours, and eventually managed to sit back up. “Ayuh, now I remember, Jocasta said you boys got a dog. So when’s the wedding?”

Anakin made an indignant noise. “What?!”

Rex chuckled and got back to his feet. “You got a dog together. Next logical step has to be marriage, right?”

“I’m not – we aren’t –“

Grinning, Rex reached down to ruffle Artie’s fur, and then made his way over to the counter. “Relax, kid, I’m just messin’ with you,” he teased over his shoulder. “Though from what I saw last weekend, it may be more likely than you think.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow, and Rex cackled with glee. “You’re too easy. So, to what do I owe the pleasure? That new tank playin’ up?”

“Uh… no, no, the tank’s fine. I actually… I wanted to ask your advice about something.”

Hearing the subdued tone of his voice, Rex’s expression softened. “Sure, kid, what’s up?”

“Ben… uh, hasn’t been very well recently,” Anakin began.

“I’m sorry to hear it. He got the flu? It’s goin’ around at the moment, that time of year and all.”

“No, no, it’s not that… he’s just, uh, not doing too great, and I’m pretty worried. I think it’s something to do with his dad.”

Rex frowned. “What do you mean?”

“…from what I can tell, they didn’t have a great relationship. I think it’s messed Ben up in a big way, and maybe coming back here to Maine is bringing up all sorts of stuff he thought he’d buried.”

“He seemed alright when he came to your rescue the other night. What changed?”

“I don’t know, he won’t tell me specifically. Did you know his father?”

Rex shrugged and shook his head. “Not well. Polite enough to talk to, but I couldn’t tell you anythin' about him really, beyond what he looked like and where he lived. People round here all say he was a real nice guy, but I didn’t really have enough to do with him to form my own opinion.”

It was Anakin’s turn to frown. “I’m starting to get the feeling that what he was like in public was very different to what he was like in private.”

“He ever had therapy?”

“Huh?”

“You know, has he ever… talked to anyone, about his dad? A psychiatrist, or whatever.”

“If he has, he hasn’t mentioned it. I haven't noticed him having any appointments or anything while he's been here.”

“Sounds like he needs to speak to a professional. Stuff like that, with parents and shit, you try and bury it and it just eats away at you. Comes back to bite you sooner or later.”

Anakin thought for a moment. “Do you think I should try and find one for him? Is that… is that out of line? I've never really dealt with something like this before.”

Rex shrugged again. “What’s the alternative? You let him stay in bed for another week and hope it’ll go away? Until the next time?”

“…alright, good point.” Anakin was worried. He wasn't sure how to help, or if Ben would even accept any help he did try to give. 

"You care about him, huh?"

Anakin looked embarrassed, but then gave a shy smile. "...yeah, I do. It's so weird... it's only been, like, a month, but it feels like a lot longer. I've just... he's so different to the guys I usually go for. I... I really like being around him. He doesn't make any assumptions about me."

"Sounds like you got it bad."

He snorted. "Oh, shut up. It's just... like, he goes out of his way to make my life easier. I'm meant to be doing that for him, and it's not like the job is hard. I basically just make us some meals, tidy up here and there and occasionally fix stuff. He doesn't really need me all that much. Sometimes I feel like he just let me move in so he wouldn't be alone." He groaned and ran one hand through his hair. "I can't figure him out. I've never met anyone like him before."

"I dunno, sounds like he needs you, just maybe not in the way you expected. And besides, maybe you weren't ready to meet someone like him before."

"What do you mean?"

Rex grinned. "Ah, just that sometimes you gotta go through some stuff before you really figure out the kind of person you wanna spend your time with. Often you have to figure out what you don't want first."

"Huh, maybe.” Anakin thought about their kiss again, and then continued morosely, “Well... I'm not sure all that matters anyway. I don't think he thinks we should be together."

"You kiddin'? The way he came runnin' when I told him you were in trouble?"

"…he did? I… don’t really remember that night too well.”

“Ayuh, he seemed awful concerned by the thought that somethin’ bad had happened to you.”

Anakin was annoyed he still couldn’t piece together the events of the night he had his fight with Cliegg. He sighed in frustration, and said, “Look, I mean, yeah, ok, maybe he does like me but... I think he thinks it's like, inappropriate, or whatever. For him to act on those feelings."

"What, because you're workin' for him?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's not forever, kid. Circumstances can be changed. Why not tell him how you feel?”

Anakin looked down. "… no, I can't... not right now, anyway. He's got enough on his mind at the moment... maybe at some point. I don't know."

They talked for a bit more and then, while Rex fed Artie some cheese from the store fridge, Anakin decided to do a quick search for nearby therapists on his phone. He wasn't even sure what to look for, but he needed to do  _something._ Scrolling through the results, he couldn't find anything on the Island, but when he widened his search he found a promising listing for a Dr. Che up in Ellsworth on the mainland. 

"Hey, Rex? Do you mind watching him for a sec? I just gotta step outside to make a call."

 

* * *

 

Ben wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up the waiting room of a psychiatrist's office. Well, that wasn't strictly true - Anakin was how. It was the rest of the details that remained unclear.

He had spent the better part of a week in a grey fog after finding Qui-Gon’s note. What he had read had brought an onslaught of painful memories thundering back to him, including many things he hadn’t even realised he still remembered. All the times he had nervously played the piano for his father after hours of painstaking practice and earned a near-emotionless monotone response for his efforts. The end-of-year reports he had proudly carted all the way from his old boys’ school in England on each summer holiday visit only to be met with, “Well, we’ll have to see if you can do better next year.” The brutal, cutting remarks. The disappointed sighs. The complete and utter disregard for his feelings. Ben felt overwhelmed. Between this and the nightmares, he wasn’t sure which type of drowning was worse.

All of his energy seemed to have deserted him, and his appetite – not particularly large at the best of times – was non-existent. It wasn’t helped by the fact that he had been trying to keep himself awake to avoid what lay waiting in his subconscious. Having begrudgingly agreed to let Anakin sleep in his bed to prevent him from any more attempts at a freezing midnight stroll had (though he wasn’t keen to admit it) helped slightly, but ultimately he still didn’t want to experience any of it. He had appreciated the other bringing him food and trying to look after him, to get him to talk, but Ben just couldn’t bring himself to open up. It was too painful. The words were there, clinging to his tongue, threatening to burst forth, but his shame fought them back. He was not ready to face the humiliation of his own father considering him such a tremendous disappointment. He was not ready to face the embarrassment of knowing that he had permitted and accepted such poor treatment for so very long. He was still not ready to accept that his father hadn’t loved him. Most of all, he was not ready to admit all of these things to the wonderful man who was so ready to let him.

Earlier that morning, the blond had pulled Ben out of bed and herded him into the bathroom before he could protest, threatening to put him in the shower with his pyjamas still on if he wouldn't get in of his own free will. Ben had scowled, but eventually complied.  

By the time he had finished, Anakin had already pulled out clothes for him to wear and prepared coffee and his now customary blueberry pancakes for breakfast. Despite his lack of appetite, Anakin had waited patiently for him to make the best effort he could with them. Once he had managed what he could, the other had bundled him up in his coat, gloves and scarf, making Ben feel slightly like an unruly child, before ushering him into the car along with Artie. 

"Where on earth are you taking me?" Ben had asked in a daze. "Oh, just... somewhere." Anakin had responded, with a note of apprehension in his voice. Now, Ben could see why. He tried to be angry, but he found he had neither the energy nor the will. After all, hadn't he sent out messages to therapists just the week before? Anakin had only arranged something he had been ready, but was currently unable, to arrange for himself. Coincidentally, the psychiatrist the other had found had been one that had Ben had also e-mailed; a Dr. Vokara Che, who practised in a nearby town called Ellsworth. She had recognised his name from his message after Anakin had explained the situation, and agreed to arrange an emergency appointment. 

"Ben Kenobi?"

He looked up. A stern-looking older woman was waiting at the office door. He sighed, and then responded, "Yes, that's me."

Anakin, who was sitting next to him with Artie on his lap - drawing a glance of bemusement from Che - squeezed his arm and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll wait out here for you the whole time."

"Anakin, you really don't..." He trailed off, noticing the blond's expression. He sighed. "...you're going to wait out here no matter what I say, aren't you?"

"You catch on quick, Kenobi," he responded with a wink.

Ben rolled his eyes, but fondly so, and followed the doctor into her office.


	9. Conversation

_Alright, I'm here... now what?_ Ben was sitting uncomfortably on the navy blue sofa in Dr Che's office. It was a fairly small room painted in neutral greys, with warm, soft lighting and several plants dotted around. It was lined with white bookcases along one wall. He didn't know what kind of room he'd been expecting, but either way this wasn't it. 

"So, what would you like to talk about, Mr Kenobi? Your boyfriend said on the phone that you haven't been very well for the last few days."

Ben blinked, her voice bringing him out of his intense study of the lighting fixtures. "Oh, he's not my... Um, he's... a friend. And you can just call me Ben."

"My apologies, Ben. He said you described it to him as a 'depressive episode', is that correct?"

"Er, yes, that's right."

"Have you attended sessions with a psychiatrist before?"

"...only Dr Google, I'm afraid." He smiled weakly.

She didn't return his smile, but her gaze was warm. "I see. And you've been experiencing some bouts of sleepwalking?"

"Yes." He sighed, and made himself a little more comfortable on the sofa. "I've been having a recurring nightmare. It's one I suffered with repeatedly as a child, but I hadn't had it for many years until recently."

"What happens in the nightmare?"

"...I'm drowning. In the sea, below my father's house. I'm... I'm struggling, in the water, and I can see him - my father - on the shore... I call out to him, but he, uh, he doesn't move."

"Have you recently experienced a traumatic event, or any change of circumstances in your life? Something that may have triggered these nightmares?"

"Yes, I... I only recently came back to Maine after a long time away. My long-term relationship ended and I... I felt like I should come. I've been staying in my father's house."

"Does your father live there also?"

"No, he's dead. Has been for about two years."

"I'm sorry. So you came back to Maine to...?"

Ben sighed again. "...the reason my relationship ended was... well, because of my issues with my father. She was... frustrated that I hadn't sought help for them. I felt like coming back to the house here might help me confront them, or something. Unfortunately, I seem to have been doing a lot of reliving, but very little, er... confronting."

"I see. Well, it doesn't take Freud to see that your father plays a big part in your pain. I can tell that you're not quite sure how to 'do' therapy - which is very common, I assure you - so I promise that we'll start simply. Could you give me a few words that you would use to describe your relationship with him?"

Ben took a deep breath, and began.

 

* * *

 

It had been a week and a half since Anakin had first deposited Ben in the waiting room at Dr Che's office. He had attended three sessions with her so far, all of which had been difficult. Unexpectedly, as soon as she had invited him to speak freely, the floodgates had opened and he had found himself almost unable to pause for breath as he divulged several decades' worth of memories. He had not been anticipating that he would be so forthcoming, and each session found him emotionally exhausted at the opening up of such ancient scars, but also - most surprisingly of all - a tiny bit lighter. 

Where he had prevented himself from sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with the people he cared about, he had no such qualms about Dr Che. She was essentially still a stranger to him - after all, he did the lion's share of the talking in their sessions. She listened to him with a calm, patient manner and no judgement, enabling him to find his momentum and roll with it. 

He had found himself in tears at least once during each session so far. Each time, he had come out of Dr Che's office with red eyes and - he imagined - looking rather worse for wear, but each time Anakin had been waiting for him with a warm smile and a bone-crushing embrace. He had developed a strategy of picking Artie up and letting him lick at Ben's face, so that Ben couldn't help but laugh as he tried to squirm away. Following the sessions, their ritual had become a trip to Dex's to eat only dessert. Anakin had stopped trying to coax Ben to talk to him, seemingly just happy that he was talking to someone. Instead, he was offering him support in the form of taking Ben's mind off of things, for which he had decided he was eternally grateful. It was exactly what he needed. 

Inconveniently, Che's misidentification of Anakin as Ben's boyfriend during his first session hadn't left him. He had thought about it several times, letting his mind wander about what it might be like to be able to call the other that, for their relationship to develop in that direction. He had had to stop and remind himself each time how inappropriate it was for him to be thinking these things, that their circumstances meant it wasn't fair of him to act on his feelings, but that hadn't stopped each daydream progressing further and further. It also hadn’t stopped him from continuing to let the blond sleep in his bed, he had noted to himself drily, although to be fair it had – as the other had annoyingly predicted – helped to prevent any further night-time wanderings. He couldn't help it - Ben knew he was starting to fall for him, and his comment from the previous week about there being 'something between them' was only making things worse. Now, he couldn’t even deny that they were both at least partially aware that they had feelings for each other.

Anakin was like no one he had ever met: his relentless magnetic energy, his determination to help Ben any way he could, his gentle but firm encouragement of Ben to accept that help. Ben had spent a lot of his life trying to be as independent and self-sufficient as possible - he was starting to suspect this had been his way of trying to prove his worth and competence to his father - but there was something about Anakin that just made Ben want to let him help. 

He was coming to realise that his relationship with Satine had always retained a level of distance - it had operated under the mutual assumption that the other was effectively equipped to deal with their own problems themselves. They would always provide practical support for each other where necessary, but emotional support far less so. There had not been a huge amount of comfort, something that Anakin seemed eager to provide in spades.  

He had been thinking about all this on the drive to his fourth session while watching raindrops chase down the passenger side window. Mid-February had brought slightly milder weather, with a lot less snow and a lot more rain. He was now sitting - much more comfortably than on his initial visit - on Dr Che's sofa again, recalling an argument he'd had with his father in his early twenties. 

"...so after that, I think I said something like, 'For fuck's sake Qui-Gon, if you ever-'" he stopped as he heard Dr Che breathe in sharply. "...sorry, is there something wrong?"

"No, my apologies, Ben - I didn't mean to interrupt. It's just... your father… I've just realised that I knew him. You hadn't mentioned his name until today."

Ben grimaced. "You and everyone in Maine, apparently. I suppose you're going to tell me what a wonderful man he was."

"No, I... I don't know if it's technically appropriate for me to tell you this, but... Well, I suppose he's passed now, and my job is to help you any way I can..."

Ben frowned. "What are you talking about?" 

Dr Che gave a small sigh. "Your father was… also a patient of mine. Towards the end of his life."

Ben felt strangely unaffected, mainly because he was convinced she must have made a mistake. He shook his head dismissively and gave a bitter smile. "No, I don't think so. My father wasn't the therapy type. That would have involved admitting there was a part of him that was flawed."

She tilted her head and said softly, "I can't imagine there's ever been more than one Qui-Gon Jinn, Ben."

His smile faded. _What? Dad… really went to therapy?_ It was almost as if he felt a hairline crack appear in the concrete-reinforced, time-ingrained image of his father that existed at the centre of his mind.

“You understand that I can’t tell you the details of what we discussed, of course. However, I feel that you should know that he came to me seeking help with some… past behaviours… and the regrets he felt over them. I hope that knowing that might bring you some peace.”

“…peace?” Ben managed. His mind was reeling. The possibility that his father had even been capable of feeling remorse, let alone in relation to him, was a concept so distant from Ben’s sphere of understanding that it may as well have been time-travel. “…did…did he talk about me?”

She hesitated. “…it would be breaking doctor-patient confidentiality rules to repeat anything _specific_ that he told me in confidence, but… I don’t think it would be out of line for me to tell you simply that he did speak of you. At great length.”

Ben was silent for a long moment, then asked abruptly, “How long was he your patient?”

She gave him a look that was hard to read. “…just under three years.”

Ben swallowed, feeling an angry heat start to rise up inside of him. “So… let me get this straight… My father spent nearly  _three years_  in therapy… “

“I think I’ve made a mistake in telling you-“ Dr Che began, but Ben wasn’t to be deterred.

“…because he apparently felt so remorseful about his fucking… _dismal_ performance as a parent, yet not once did he think to call  _his only son_  to tell him that? Not once in  _all that time?!”_  He knew he was starting to raise his voice and that he should stop, but his fury only kept building.

“I apologise, Ben, I misread the situation. That was unprofessional of me—”

“Well, I can’t fucking unhear it, can I?!” He was getting louder, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “You know, that’s so fucking  _typical_  of Qui-Gon – just, just so fucking  _him._ Of  _course_ he would allow himself the indulgence of  _years_ of wallowing in his own pathetic narrative of ‘Oh, woe is me, my only son won’t talk to me!’, and ‘Oh, what did I do to deserve this treatment? Was I that bad a father?’! If he was really so fucking  _sorry_  about it, then he had plenty of  _fucking time to tell me!!!”_

The room fell painfully silent. Dr Che was staring at him, her expression carefully neutral.

Breathing heavily, Ben grabbed his coat from the sofa next to him and stood up. “I’m – I’m sorry for shouting at you. I think we both know it’s not you I’m angry at. I – I think that’s probably enough for today.”

He hurried out of the room without a backwards glance, and as he swept into the waiting room, Anakin stood from where he had been sitting, a smile forming and then faltering as he saw Ben’s expression.

“Ben? What’s –”

Ben interrupted him, speaking rapidly. “I need to get out of here, I feel like I’m suffocating!”

Without a word, Anakin immediately grabbed his own coat and the end of Artie’s lead and gestured for Ben to lead the way out. Ben made it just beyond the building’s front door before the tears came and his knees gave way, making him stagger and fling his arm out to brace himself against the nearest wall. The frigid rain that was falling heavily was already soaking through his clothes, his coat still under his arm, forgotten. He sank down, hyperventilating between sobs, his back against the bricks, until he was sitting on cold, wet, unforgiving concrete. He felt like he might actually choke on the red fury he was feeling.

He was dimly aware of Anakin crouching beside him, extracting his coat from under his arm and gently pulling it over his shoulders. After his breathing slowed and the tears relented slightly, the blond helped him to stand and guided him towards the parking lot at the rear of the building. “Come on, let’s get you home,” Ben heard him say, as if from a great distance away.

Ben barely even felt Anakin pull up at the house and help him out of the car. He was only vaguely conscious of the blond guiding him up the stairs to his bedroom once they were back in the house, pulling off his soaking shirt, jeans and shoes and easing him into bed before drawing the comforter over him. The thought that this was the last scenario in which he had expected to find Anakin removing his clothes occurred to him, highly inconveniently. After he fell asleep almost immediately, he did not dream.

 

* * *

 

Anakin sighed as he followed Artie along the path through the tall pines. The edge of Acadia National Park was not far from Ben's house, and they had started to bring the dog here on walks together. Today, however, he was alone. Ben hadn't felt up to joining him after the distress of the day before, so Anakin had left him on the sofa under blankets with a ridiculous action movie about drag racing playing on Netflix, insisting it was a 'must watch'. Ben had raised an eyebrow but complied - Anakin thought he might have just been grateful for an excuse not to think for two hours. 

Anakin was concerned about Ben's difficult session yesterday, even though several articles he had found online had all said that therapy was almost always a lengthy process that was often 'two steps forward and one step back'. He was pleased at least that Ben had agreed to keep attending the sessions, despite the slightly clumsy way Anakin had initiated them. He hoped they would help the other find the self-confidence he was lacking.  _I wish he could see what I see,_ he thought to himself. 

Also playing on his mind was a text he had received from Cliegg this morning, wanting to talk. He hadn't spoken to the man since their fight. As he tightened his scarf around his neck against the chilly winter air, he thought back to what Ben had said to him on the beach that day. ' _You know don't have to have a relationship with him, don't you?' That's what he said. Is it really okay for me just walk away?_ Anakin was concerned by the thought of cutting off his one remaining family member. His real father had left his mother before he was even one year old, and he had absolutely no desire to go looking for him. 

He thought about something else Ben had said, something about family being the people you choose to have around you. He thought of Ahsoka, of Rex, of Padme. He also thought of Ben, as his hope that their relationship would develop into something more serious continued to grow. What did Cliegg bring to his life now, really? He was thankful for how well he had treated Shmi, and beyond grateful at having been able to have Owen as his stepbrother, but now that they were both gone...  _We have nothing in common. We barely even know each other, really. Maybe we're both trying to keep the relationship going for the wrong reasons._

He paused to bend down and pick up a stick from the side of the path, wondering idly if Artie knew how to fetch. He gave a whistle to get the dog's attention, and once he had, he hurled the stick as far beyond him as he could. To his surprise, Artie was off like a shot, dashing madly to try and reach it before it hit the ground. He didn't catch it in mid-air, but he did retrieve it from the muddy trail, and trotted happily back to Anakin with it in his mouth. Anakin laughed, delighted. He bent down to scratch between the dog's ears. "Good boy, Artie."

They continued to play fetch as they progressed along the trail, and a light rain began to fall. He wondered how one went about telling someone you didn't really want to know them any more. As the rain started to intensify, Anakin ducked under a tree for shelter and pulled out his phone. 

After checking the time –  _2.22_ \- he took a deep breath and tapped out a text to Cliegg: <are you home? im ready to talk> Anakin wasn't sure what shift he was working at the inn. 

He stood for a few minutes, throwing the stick for Artie from beneath the tree, until his phone pinged with a reply. 

<I'll be home just after 3> 

He sighed, and typed back, <ill come by in an hour>

He called Artie to him and started off back the way they had come. The dog had surprisingly good recall, and had taken to his new name well. He had become Anakin's shadow and had started following him everywhere he went, much to Ben's amusement. 

After they got back to the house and he had dried Artie off, Anakin found Ben asleep on the sofa and the Netflix home screen up on the TV. He smiled. The redhead looked peaceful lying there, with his head resting on one arm and his hair falling slightly over his face. Ben hadn't had any nightmares for the last few nights and hadn't sleepwalked since he had started the therapy sessions, although Anakin was still sleeping in his bed at night just in case. A little selfishly, he was saddened by the thought that he might have to go back to his own bed if the sleepwalking stopped for good, even though no part of him wanted Ben to have to go through it again. 

He crouched down next to him and gently rested a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Hey, Ben, wake up."

Ben stirred and opened his eyes. He offered Anakin a sleepy smile, which caused the blond's heart to give a little flutter. "Oh, hi... I was having the loveliest dream about you..." Then, his eyes widened as he came to his senses a little more and his face flushed bright red. He scrambled to pull the blankets further over him. "Uh, um... Anakin... I... must have fallen asleep..." 

Anakin smirked at him and bit his lip playfully, understanding what he must have meant. "What  _kind_  of lovely dream?" 

"Uh, nevermind, um, how was your walk?" Ben was adorably flustered. Anakin's mind was coming up with all sorts of appealing concepts for the topic of Ben's dream, most of which involved the two of them not wearing very much. He was undeniably excited by the thought that Ben had dreamt about him in that way, and was also highly intrigued by Ben’s struggle to cover himself more effectively.

He chuckled and decided to stop being cruel. "It was good, but then it started to rain pretty bad so we came back. I'm actually going to head over to my stepdad's and try and talk things out a little, and... maybe see about, kind of reducing the contact we have. I'll be passing through town, so I just wanted to ask if you needed anything?"

Ben sat up slightly and raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh? That's... good, right?" 

"That's the plan. Can't guarantee, but I'm going to try. I'm kind of worried he'll be offended, but part of me thinks he might secretly be relieved. I mean, he loved my mom but... we've never been that close."

"I hope it goes well for you, Anakin." Ben gave him a earnest smile. "And no, I don't need anything from town, but thank you. It's… just as well you woke me up, otherwise I probably wouldn't have slept tonight."

"Oh, I don't know, don't you want to get back to your  _lovely_  dream?" He winked as he stood up, and Ben blushed again. 

He ducked as the other hurled a cushion from the sofa at him. "Oh, leave me in peace, you pest!" 

Anakin ran out of the room cackling. 

 

* * *

 

Anakin’s glee over teasing Ben had quickly evaporated once he had set out for Cliegg’s house, nerves churning his stomach into a ball of anxiety. Was he unknowingly instigating another fight between the two of them? After he parked up his bike in the driveway, he headed up to the front door and was about to use his key, but then thought better of it. _If I’m going to try and cut ties between us, I have to start treating this place like it’s not connected to me any more._ He rang the bell instead, huddling under the small porch from the rain. His motorcycle leathers were waterproof, but not all that warm.

After a moment, Cliegg opened the door. He was leaning heavily on his walking stick, and Anakin knew the cold weather must have been making his old leg injury play up. “Hi,” he said awkwardly after a moment.

“Hey. Come in out of that rain, huh?”

After he closed the door behind him, he followed Cliegg into the living room. He stood uncomfortably as his stepfather seated himself in his armchair, suddenly feeling very much like a stranger in a strange land.

“Sit down, huh? You sick or somethin’?” Cliegg said gruffly.

Anakin hesitated, and then seated himself in the sofa across from him. “No, sorry… just… nervous.”

“Nervous? Anakin, I’ve known you to be many things in my presence, but nervous sure ain’t one of ‘em.”

He smiled weakly. “I know… look, before I say anything else, I wanted to… I wanted to say I’m sorry for the disappearing act. I’ve been working and living on the other side of town. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

Cliegg was quiet for moment. Then, he said, “Ah, it’s ok, kid. After… the other week… I spoke to Jocasta in town. She told me where you were. Wasn’t tryin’ to come after you or nothin’, just wanted to… you know. Make sure you were safe, or whatever.”

Anakin looked down at his hands in his lap. He felt guilty, now. Cliegg wasn’t all bad. They didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things, but he knew deep down the man ultimately didn’t wish him ill. He took a deep breath, and looked back up at the man. “Can I… ask you something? I promise I’m not trying to piss you off, or start a fight or whatever, it’s just… something I’ve been thinking a lot about.”

Cliegg raised an eyebrow, but then nodded in affirmation to encourage him to continue.

“Well… God, I have no idea what the right way to say this is, or if there even _is_ a right way… Look, ok, it’s just… we both know we’re pretty different people, yeah? And that we… we don’t always get on too great?”

“I think that’s puttin’ it kindly, kid,” his stepfather said with a half-smile.

“Yeah, well… look, for the record, I want you to know I’m really glad my mom had you. You were good to her, you never messed her around - she loved you. I won’t ever forget that.”

Cliegg looked a little surprised. “Oh… uh, well, yeah… I loved her too. She was… she was very dear to me, your mother. I miss her… very much.”

“I know.” Anakin said sincerely. “And, also, I’m really glad that I got to have Owen be my stepbrother. You know how close we were, he was my best friend, and…” He looked away momentarily. “…I don’t want to bring up what we fought about the other day, because I think we’re just gonna have to, you know, agree to disagree there, but… I’m real glad I got to have him in my life.”

“I… yeah, I know. You meant a whole lot to him, Anakin. As far as he was concerned, you were as good as a real brother, if not better. And… I know you said you don’t wanna talk about it, but…” Cliegg shifted in his seat. “The other day… I feel pretty shitty about the whole thing. It… I needed to do it, for my own reasons, but… I’ll admit I didn’t really think about how it might affect you. I didn’t really think about anything at all, if I’m honest… I kind of did it in a blur. I was just going crazy walkin’ past it every day and him not being in there.”

Anakin had not been expecting that. The room fell quiet for a moment, but the silence was not entirely uncomfortable.

“Anyway, just… wanted you to know I’m sorry, about that. But… kid, I gotta ask. Why are you bringin’ up all this stuff now?”

Anakin sighed, looking up at the ceiling in an attempt to gather his thoughts. “I just… I think that because of Mom and Owen, you and I have maybe been… trying to force a relationship. One that only really existed before because of them.”

“…what do you mean?” Cliegg’s brow furrowed slightly, but Anakin couldn’t tell if the gesture held aggression or not.

“Well, just… sometimes I feel like…ugh, God, why is this so hard...” he groaned. “Basically, I feel like we mostly stay in touch because we think it’s what Mom and Owen would want us to do.”

The man gave a slow, slightly reluctant shrug. “…there’s… there’s probably some truth to that.”

Anakin took another deep breath and continued. “Ok, well, I’ve been thinking… maybe if we… didn’t try to spend time together just because, you know, we think it’s what we _should_ be doing… it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. And,” he continued quickly before Cliegg could speak, “I don’t want you to think that I’m not grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Because I am.”

“…what exactly are you sayin’, Anakin?”

He felt very uncomfortable, but thought back again to what Ben had said on the beach, and tried to stay focused. He knew that unburdening them both of a relationship that existed mostly for the wrong reasons was the right thing to do.

“I’m saying… if you wanted our relationship to be less… close… that would be ok. With me. I don’t think that… Mom and Owen wouldn’t want us to fight. But that’s generally what happens when I’m home – just because of who we are, I think. I mean… you remember last Thanksgiving, right?” After Owen had died, the first time Anakin had returned home had been just for a weekend at the following Thanksgiving. It had just been the two of them, and it had been excruciating. They had both been grieving, but unable to appreciate the other’s grief, and a blazing row had ensued. Anakin seemed to remember Rex having had to come and collect him from the Cantina later that night. That argument was the reason he had stayed in Palo Alto for Christmas.

Cliegg had been looking at him with a curious expression, but now he gave a little laugh. “Hah, yeah… kinda wish I didn’t. Not our finest moment.”

“Exactly… look, Cliegg, I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk or anything but… like, I know you’d rather spend stuff like Thanksgiving and Christmas with the crew from the inn. And… I’d rather spend it with my friends… just… do you see what I’m getting at?”

Cliegg sat forward in his armchair. For a horrible moment, Anakin thought he might be about to shout, to take it all the wrong way, even though he’d stayed calm until now.

“…you’re a lot smarter than I give you credit for, kid. I think your mom would be real proud of you, to see the man you’ve become. That’s when you’re not gettin’ into bar fights at the Cantina, of course.” His stepfather gave him a wry smile.

Anakin laughed, embarrassed. “You, uh, you heard about that, huh?”

“Well, I told you I spoke to Jocasta, didn’t I?” They both laughed together at that. After a moment, Cliegg continued more seriously. “I see what you’re gettin’ at Anakin. And… as much as I’m not proud to admit it, I think you’re right to say that we aren’t exactly… compatible. Can’t help feelin’ like I probably should have done more to fix that, but… here we are. I think… I think it’d probably be a good idea for us to just… try to force things less.”

Anakin gave a tentative smile. “Okay… that’s, that’s good. Thank you for not… like, freaking out on me, or whatever.” 

Cliegg gave him a tired smile. “Anakin, I’m not too proud to admit when you’re right. And… for what it’s worth, if I’m bein’ entirely honest… I don’t feel too comfortable with myself that you’re the one who’s had to bring all this up. You’re meant to be the kid, you know? I guess being a parent never really came natural to me, even with Owen. But that’s my cross to bear, I guess.”

“Hey, it’s… yeah.” Anakin had been going to say that it was alright, but deep in his heart he knew it wasn’t. The wounds within him left by Cliegg’s changeable behaviours and inconsistent parenting were not magically healed. But he had hope that this conversation would take him closer to a day when they seemed a lot fainter.


	10. Both Sides, Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bumped up the rating to M for this one guys... ;) NSFW goes without saying! Hope you all enjoy it :)

Ben wasn’t sure why he’d come into this room, but he certainly hadn’t been expecting to find Anakin – wearing only a pair of tight boxer shorts that left very little to the imagination – gazing up at him suggestively from the bed.

“Anakin – wha… what are you doing?!” He stammered, eyes wide.

“Oh, hey Ben…” The blond grinned cheekily. “I was just wondering if today was going to be the day you ran out of excuses for not sleeping with me.”

Ben felt heat rush to his cheeks. “Wha – Anakin, we can’t–”

Anakin tutted, shifting on the bed excruciatingly slowly until he was on his hands and knees. The position looked positively obscene, and Ben ached with the amount that he wanted him. “That sounds like another excuse to me…” Anakin drawled lazily, tilting his head slightly.

Without realising it, Ben had moved towards the bed, and now Anakin sat up on his knees to pull Ben towards him by his shirt collar. Before he could think, Anakin was kissing him savagely, and it felt like absolute bliss. The blond’s hands were all over him and he moaned with pleasure. _God, this feels good. Why didn’t we do this sooner?_

Abruptly, Anakin broke the kiss and sank down lower, tugging Ben’s jeans down before he had a chance to stop him. “Anakin, wait—”

Ben’s eyes rolled back as Anakin took him into his mouth, and he cried out—

“Fuck!”

He sat bolt upright. He was panting and he could feel his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, along with a stiff hardness aching in his groin that was impossible to ignore. _Another one?! When I wished for the nightmares to stop, this isn’t exactly how I thought they’d be replaced!!_

He was suddenly painfully aware of Anakin lying right next to him – and worse, his shout had woken him up. Bleary-eyed, the blond rolled over and managed sleepily, “…you okay? Is it another nightmare?”

Ben had never moved so fast in his life. He made like a shot for the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “No nightmare, everything’s fine, just need the bathroom, everything’s fine! Go back to sleep!”

Still mostly unconscious, Anakin shrugged and rolled back over, his light snoring resuming almost immediately.

In the bathroom, Ben closed the door swiftly and then slumped against it. “Shit…” he muttered under his breath, furiously willing the heat between his legs to disappear. _Too many more dreams like that and I’m going to run out of reasons why I shouldn’t throw myself at him._

After a moment, he crossed to the sink where he had left his watch the night before. It was just before 6am. He sighed and glanced at his dishevelled reflection in the bathroom mirror, wishing – although not entirely – that the image of Anakin with his mouth around him would fade from his mind’s eye. _Looks like a cold shower and an early start for you, Kenobi._

 

* * *

 

After dinner that evening they were sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, watching a film that Ben had worked on a few years ago and had reluctantly agreed to show Anakin. The blond was laid out horizontally along the sofa with his legs draped unceremoniously over Ben’s knees, which was making him feel very uncomfortable but also annoyingly excited, particularly following this morning’s mental exploits. Artie was curled up on Anakin’s lap.

“This is really good, Ben,” Anakin said through a mouthful of popcorn, not taking his eyes off the screen. “I can’t believe you’ve only won one Golden Globe. You should have, like, all the Oscars.”

Ben looked at him, surprised. “How do you know about that?”

Anakin grinned at him. “Your IMDb page.”

“Damn it, Quinlan…” Ben muttered under his breath, knowing just who was responsible for updating it.

“Who won the Oscar for Best Music this year? I can’t believe it wasn’t you,” Anakin wondered, cramming more popcorn into his mouth from the bowl on the floor without looking. Ben had to laugh – the blond’s shirt was covered in rogue pieces.

He reached over to pick one up from Anakin’s chest and ate it, immediately turning red as he tried to ignore the thoughtless overfamiliarity of his gesture and play it off casually, before replying, “No one. The Oscars haven’t happened yet. I doubt it will be me, though.”

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but then Artie suddenly jumped from his lap and began to do what they now knew to be his ‘bathroom’ dance. He sighed and reluctantly got to his feet, suddenly surprised by all of the popcorn that fell off of him onto the floor. “Uh… sorry!”

Ben rolled his eyes and leant down to collect the errant pieces into his hand.

“Would you mind pausing it? I just gotta take him outside.”

“Alright. I’m going to the kitchen to make some tea and to put these in the bin … strangely, I’m not a _huge_ fan of ‘dog hair’ flavour. Would you like one? Tea, that is, not furry popcorn.”

“Sure, sounds good!”

When Anakin let himself and Artie back into the house after he had finished in the garden, he found Ben about to pour their tea in the kitchen.

“His highness has completed his royal business,” Anakin grinned, closing the back door.

Ben chuckled as he returned the kettle to its stand. He turned back to Anakin with an easy smile on his face, and the blond felt a little twinge of fondness at his expression. “Hey, Anakin, could I ask a favour while I finish making these?”

“Sure, what do you need?”

“Would you mind bringing me the stack of music from inside the piano stool in the library? I’ve just thought of something for the piece I’m working on… but there’s a good chance I’ve stolen it from somewhere,” he continued with a sheepish grin.

Anakin smiled. “No problem. Does that happen a lot?”

“Occasionally. It’s infuriating when it does, because it’s nearly always impossible to confirm. Once I worked for a _week_ on a track for a movie before I realised I’d stolen the main refrain straight from a car advert I’d seen on TV a few weeks before.”

The blond laughed. “Oh no!”

“Yes, not my finest moment!”

“Well, let’s hope you haven’t stolen this one,” Anakin smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

Artie trailed at his heels as Anakin moved through the darkened house. In the library, he hefted the pile of books and papers from within the stool and then replaced the lid. As he turned around, he noticed the dog sniffing at something just behind the door. “What do you have there, buddy?” Moving closer, he realised it was a hardback book lying on the floor. _That’s weird, what’s this doing off the shelves? Nothing else is out of place in here._ Depositing the things he was carrying on the armchair, which they had left next to the piano since the night Ben had played for him, he returned to gently shoo Artie away and pick up the book. It was, apparently, a very old copy of ‘Treasure Island’. He gave a little chuckle – he had never read it, but had a very fond memory of watching ‘Muppet Treasure Island’ with Shmi when he had been quite young. Opening it up, he found a beautifully illustrated map on the inside cover, and when he flicked through the pages to admire their age, a loose piece of paper fluttered out.

“Shit!” He hissed, worried that he’d made one of them come loose, but then gave a small exhale of relief when he realised the paper was white, not light brown like the pages of the book. He picked it up off the floor to study it. It was a handwritten note, and from the date at the top it had been penned just over two years ago. _Did Ben’s dad write this?_

Absently, he moved back over to sit on the piano stool behind him to read it.

_I fear my illness is reaching its final stages now, and that I do not have much time left. I feel it necessary to write these thoughts down as I look back upon my life. My greatest disappointment has been with regard to my only son, Ben, and the extent to which I now realise I failed him as a father._

_Ben, if you’re reading this – I am sorry. My behaviour to you throughout your life was unforgivable. After you finally ceased contact with me, I spent an embarrassing amount of time wallowing in my own self-pity over why you had decided to treat me this way. The more time passed, the more my health began to decline, and the more I saw you continuing to achieve great things without me – what a simultaneously wondrous and diabolical invention, the internet; I watched every picture you worked on – I started to suspect that the fault may not lie with you._

_I have been attending regular counselling with a psychiatrist for the last two years, who has gradually helped me realise that the standards I held you to as a child, and as a young man, and indeed for all of your life, were impossible and cruel. I misguidedly believed that I was encouraging you to achieve more, to strive harder, to push further, but I fear all I really succeeded in doing was damning you to an existence where you feel you have never done enough. For that, I am truly sorry._

_I can only hope that once I am gone, you manage to find happiness and contentment in spite of me. I wish that I had told you how much I love you, and how proud you have made me._

_Love,_

_Your father_

"Fascinating, isn't it."

Anakin jumped. He hadn't realised Ben was standing there.

"Jesus! You scared me... uh, what's fascinating?"

"How people can continue to surprise you after they're gone. I knew my father was a cold man, but even I didn't think he was capable of this particular level of cruelty."

"Huh?"

Ben walked a little further into the room, staring off into space as he spoke. "He used to read that book to me every night when I was tiny. Over and over. I never got tired of it. How fitting it must have seemed to him, then, to choose that particularbook in which to hide a note detailing what a  _spectacular_  disappointment I was to him. He must have known if I ever came back here, there was a good chance I'd open it."

"Wait, what?" Anakin asked, intensely confused.

"The note, inside. I assume you read it." Ben came and sat down heavily in the armchair, shifting the pile of papers onto the floor with a thud.

"Uh... I don't know what note you're talking about. The one I read doesn't say anything like that. Ben, you... you did read the entire thing, didn't you?"

Ben laughed bitterly. "I didn't have to. And despite what you may think of me at the moment Anakin, I don't enjoy suffering  _that_ much."

Anakin looked back down at the note in his hands. He scanned the first few lines again.  _If he didn't read the whole thing... the way it's phrased..._

"Ben, you don't... here, just listen." He began to read the note aloud, sensing Ben cringe physically as he did.

"...Anakin, forgive me, but even reading it once was too much -" he tried to interrupt, but Anakin ignored him.

"...greatest disappointment has been with regard to my only son, Ben,  _and the extent to which I now realise I failed him as a father._ " Anakin emphasised the latter part of the sentence.

Ben blinked. "...what?"

Anakin held out the note to him. Ben stared at it for a moment as if it might bite him. Anakin waved it a little. "I think you need to read this."

Hesitantly, Ben looked at him, his expression apprehensive, and then accepted the note. He bowed his head and brought his hand up to his beard as he began to read it. As he read and Anakin watched, Ben hunched over further as if he was trying to retreat into himself and tears began to splash onto the paper beneath his face. When he finished, and slowly looked back up at Anakin, the blond’s heart nearly broke then and there for the expression on Ben’s face.

“…I…I…” Ben was looking off into the middle distance, clearly struggling to find words. Tears continued to roll down his face, but he seemed not to notice them.

“That must have been a lot to take in,” Anakin said softly.

Ben looked back at him, almost in surprise, as if he had momentarily forgotten the other was there.

He exhaled suddenly, his brow furrowing. “…am I dreaming? Is this another dream?”

“No, Ben, this is real.”

Ben shook his head slightly, his expression very distant. “I… think I might need to lie down.”

“Hey, it’s ok – this feels like a pretty big thing to process all in one go, so… why don’t we just… go back to the movie, take your mind off it, and I’ll… I’ll call Dr Che in the morning to see if we can move up your next appointment to tomorrow. This… probably needs a professional. No offense.”

Ben nodded weakly, but made no move to stand. Anakin gently reached for his hand and encouraged him to his feet, and led him out of the library.

 

* * *

 

Ben awoke groggily. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but he felt exhausted. Opening his eyes with some difficulty and slowly becoming aware of his surroundings, he froze as he realised there was an arm wrapped around his waist and that he was pressed up against its owner.  _Oh god, please tell me I didn't do something stupid last night._

As his eyes adjusted in the dim light and he remembered more of the night before, he realised he was on the sofa in the rear living room, and not in bed as he had previously feared. He breathed out slightly.  _Did we fall asleep watching the movie?_ He looked up at the TV, expecting to see the Netflix home screen, but it was switched off.  _I must have dozed off... He turned it off and let me sleep._  His heart swelled with gratitude for Anakin and how kind the younger man was continuing to be towards him. Then, he felt a pang of guilt as he thought about all of the mixed signals he must be giving off – he _knew_ Anakin liked him, and he imagined the other was thoroughly confused by now. After all, he had freaked out when Anakin had kissed him, but had apparently been happy to let the other man curl up around him to sleep. He groaned inwardly.  _You have got to stop doing stuff like this. You know it's not fair on him._

He thought about Qui-Gon's letter, and suddenly needed air. Carefully extracting himself from Anakin's arms after checking the other was still asleep, he got up from the sofa and went in search of his coat. Artie opened one eye at him from the dog bed, but let him go. 

Down on the beach, Ben stared out at the waves. It wasn't fully light yet and the early morning air held misty rain, and he had pulled his hood up in response. He felt shell-shocked. Of all the things that he had wondered about his father, the possibility that the man would ever recognise his enormous shortcomings as a parent had truly never even crossed his mind. He had hoped for it, of course, but had always tried to accept in his heart of hearts that it would never come. When the man had died, this had evolved into a knowledge that he held deep inside him, and now he wondered if that final realisation had been the root of all of his grief over the last two years. 

He had always assumed that Qui-Gon had been so narcissistic that he would simply never entertain the idea that he had done anything wrong in his parenting of Ben. And now, to find a note from him from literally beyond the grave not only acknowledging it, but  _apologising_ for it... It was a lot to take in. 

He was vaguely aware he was crying again. He felt like he'd cried so much in the last few weeks that it was a surprise he wasn't suffering from severe dehydration. If not for Anakin, he probably would have been.  _Anakin._ He sighed in frustration.  _What the hell do I do about you?_ Ben knew that his feelings for the younger man were now undeniable, but so was his guilt.  _I'm a bloody mess, and you deserve better. It's not fair of me to have dragged you through all of this with me._

He didn't quite know how long he stood there for, but the sun had fully risen by the time he sensed movement further up the beach. He turned to see Anakin, and nearer to him a scampering Artie, making their way towards him across the sand. 

"Thought we might find you out here," the blond called as he approached. 

"Just... needed a little air," Ben replied with a weak smile, reaching down to scratch between Artie's ears.

"I bet." Anakin came to stand next to him, gloved hands in his coat pockets. "How are you feeling?" 

"I'll tell you as soon as I find out."

Anakin made a face that was a mixture of warmth and concern. "...I called Dr Che's office before I came down. Earliest she can see you is tomorrow morning, I hope that's okay."

"That's alright. Thank you, Anakin." 

"Would you like some breakfast? I can make pancakes. I'm guessing you're getting pretty cold out here now."

Ben acknowledged the growing numbness in his hands and feet and the emptiness in his stomach, and made a noise of agreement. He had been standing still in the cold February air for some time. "...That sounds good."

As they headed back towards the staircase that led up to the back garden, Ben said hesitantly, "I'm sorry."

"I mean, you usually are... remind me what you're sorry for this time?" Anakin grinned at him as they walked. 

He gave a half-smile, and then carried on more seriously. "...for putting you through all of this. I'm all over the place at the moment, but I've asked far too much of you, Anakin. You've got your own things to deal with, you shouldn't have to be bogged down with all my... problems."

Anakin stopped him with a hand on his forearm as Ben reached to open the back door, and gave him a hard stare. "Apology not accepted. If there's one thing I've learned about you while I've been here, it's that you find it damn near impossible to ask for help when you really need it. Everything I've done for you has been because I wanted to, not because I thought you expected it of me. So, apology not accepted, and you're very welcome." He gave a wide, smug grin and clapped Ben on the shoulder. "Now come on! Pancakes await."

Ben stared in wonder at the taller man's back as he marched past into the kitchen, Artie trotting at his heels.  _How does every single thing he says sound like exactly what I need to hear? What did I do to deserve him?_ He sighed and followed after them. 

 

* * *

 

The following night, they were both sat quietly in the living room. Ben had attended his appointment with Dr Che earlier that day, bringing the letter with him after some hesitation. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt at the moment, and so was trying to take his mind off things by working on a new guitar piece, strumming and then occasionally pausing to make notes on the pad of manuscript paper next to him. Anakin was sat in the armchair opposite the sofa, trying to read a new issue of the motorcycle magazine that he subscribed to, but the wine they had opened for dinner had gone to his head and he kept getting distracted by Ben's playing. He was on his third glass and it was giving him a pleasant buzz.  

He had picked up on Ben’s subdued attitude after last night’s discovery, and had been trying valiantly all day to distract him with various sugary snacks and light-hearted conversation. Now, however, he couldn't seem to stop admiring the slight furrow of Ben's brow as he worked, the gentle part of his lips as he mouthed silent notes to himself, or the soft firelight reflecting off his copper hair. _I bet he doesn't even know how attractive he is,_ he thought to himself, taking another sip of wine.  _God, I really want to kiss him again._

Emboldened by the alcohol, he put his magazine and glass to one side abruptly and crossed over to sit on the sofa next to Ben. The redhead stopped playing and looked up at him with an amused expression, one eyebrow raised. "Yes?"  _Fuck, that accent drives me crazy,_ Anakin thought. 

He leaned in with what he hoped was a sultry expression on his face. "So... are we ever going to talk about that kiss, or...?"

Ben jumped up so fast he nearly dropped his guitar. "Anakin..." he began tentatively, recovering to lean the instrument against the arm of the sofa, "I'm... not sure that's such a good idea."

Suddenly exasperated, Anakin slumped back against the sofa cushions and rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go again."

Ben had taken a few steps back, but now he stopped. "Excuse me?" 

Anakin shook his head in mock wonder. "All my life I've been told how stubborn I am, but I don't even think _I_ can match up to you when it comes to avoiding your emotions."

Ben made an incredulous noise. "I beg your pardon?!" 

For a moment, Anakin wondered if he was being too harsh. Then, he remembered what it had taken for the other to seek help with his issues with his father, and decided – in his slightly impaired state – that Ben could probably use a little push here too. "Oh, come on Ben, face it. I _know_ you feel the same way about me as I do about you. How much longer are you going to try and pretend that isn't the case?"

Ben spluttered, his face turning a now all-too-familiar red. "I - well, you -"

Anakin raised an eyebrow in response and stood up from the sofa, crossing his arms.

"...look, it's just... not that simple, alright?" Ben managed eventually. 

"Explain it."

"...what?"

"Explain to me how it isn't simple," Anakin said defiantly, trying to appear more steady on his feet than he felt.

"Er... well...," Ben felt slightly panicked. He hadn't exactly planned on being confronted like this. "...okay, well for one, I'm barely two months out of a serious long term relationship. I don't even know if my brain has accepted that yet!"

Anakin hesitated; this was the point he had been fearing most. He didn’t know anything about Ben’s ex-girlfriend, and had no idea if he even measured up to her.  _No,_ he thought to himself firmly,  _it's time to put all your cards on the table._ He straightened up and said, "If your brain hadn't accepted it, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You wouldn't have gotten feelings for me if you weren't ready to."

_… okay, that’s kind of a good point,_ Ben thought reluctantly. "Uh, well... what about the age difference between us?" He wished his statement had sounded more certain. 

"So you're ten years older than me, big deal. It doesn't bother me. I mean, if I was a teenager then yeah, we'd have a problem, but I'm 24; I’ll be 25 in summer. I'm an adult just like you. And apparently  _unlike_  you, I'm mature enough to admit to myself that I'm attracted to you. Next?"

Ben flushed red again. He wished his face would stop giving away his feelings. "Er, well – you’re living in my house! I’m not about to send you back to your stepfather, am I?!”

Anakin was ready. "That's only temporary! I could move out today if I needed to, I wasn't lying when I said I made some good money from computer repair back in California. I'm only living here because I'm working for you!"

Trying valiantly to ignore the sparkle that had lit up Anakin's eyes in his determination to win this argument and how completely irresistible it made him look, Ben saw his chance. "Exactly, you're working for me! I'm paying you to be here!! Don't you see that it would be _wildly_ inappropriate for me to abuse my position of power by…trying to start something between us? If you didn't want me-"

"But I do want you!" Anakin said, almost angrily.

Ben was speechless for a moment. "I... you...," he shook his head and tried to focus, despairing now. "...Anakin, I wish things were different, but... that doesn't change the fact that it would be incredibly _wrong_ of me to initiate something with you while you were employed by me!!"

"I don't even need this job! I could go back to California and get a job tomorrow! I'm only here because I want to be!!"

The living room fell silent. Anakin’s breathing was rapid and he was staring at the other intently. All of Ben's reasons for holding back seemed to have crumbled into fine dust. 

_Oh, fuck it._

He closed the gap between them at speed and took Anakin's face in his hands to kiss him fervently. Anakin gasped into his mouth in surprise before he began to kiss him back, and then wrapped his hands around Ben's waist to pull him closer, pressing their bodies together. _He feels even better against me than I hoped he would,_ Ben thought faintly.

Eventually Ben pulled back, breaking the kiss with his forehead resting against the other's, and murmured fondly, "You're fired." 

"You can't fire me, I quit," Anakin grinned back with slight awe, pushing forward to kiss him again passionately.

_I can't believe I spent so much time trying to convince myself this wasn't right,_ Ben thought faintly as their lips brushed over one another’s, smiling into it. He pulled back from the kiss again, panting, and said softly, "Are you sure this is okay?”

"Are you serious!? Yes! But I swear, Ben, if you break this kiss one more time..." He brought their mouths together for a third time. Anakin turned them around, guiding them back towards the sofa while moving his hands upwards to run through and pull gently at Ben's hair.

The backs of Ben's legs collided with the sofa and they fell back onto it together, Anakin on top of him. "You don't waste any time, do you?" Ben breathed in surprise.

"Are you kidding?" Anakin muttered in response, "I've been thinking about this for weeks." He kissed Ben again fiercely, pressing their hips together, and whined softly into Ben's mouth. As their tongues moved together, Ben's hands were on Anakin's hips, and he gently found his way under the other's t-shirt to run them up his back, revelling in the feeling of the curve and movement of every muscle there. Anakin shifted so that his knees were either side of Ben's hips.

Ben broke their kiss again and brought his hands around to the other's chest, pushing him upwards so that Anakin was sat up and straddling him. The other smiled in surprise as Ben took hold of the hem of his shirt with a playful grin and started to lift it, saying, "And I've been thinking about  _this_ for weeks." Anakin took his meaning and hastily pulled his shirt off over his head, which was rewarded with a wistful sigh from the redhead. "Good lord, you're  _actually_ perfect." 

He took in the sight of Anakin's bare chest hungrily and ran his hands slowly over him, pressing his thumbs everywhere the muscles indented and brushing one over the trail of hair below his navel. Anakin shivered pleasantly at the touch and gave a modest smile, then leant forward again to touch his lips to the top of Ben's neck. 

"You're not so bad yourself, you know. Don't think I wasn't paying attention when you showed up half-naked in the kitchen that day." He trailed light kisses down Ben's neck and into the center of his collarbone, causing the other to inhale sharply and buck his hips upwards. 

They could both feel that the other was hard. Anakin moaned at the pressure and Ben sat them both up, pulling the blond closer in his lap and pressing kisses to the top of his chest. "Shush, I mean it... look at you. You're beautiful, Anakin."

Anakin blushed. He couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken to him like that, or touched him so tenderly. Ben turned his head to rest his ear against Anakin's heart, and held him close. Surprised, Anakin tilted his chin down to rest it on top of Ben's head, kissing into his soft hair. They sat like that for a moment, simply enjoying the contact. 

After a while, Anakin murmured into Ben's hair, "I think it's pretty unfair that I'm shirtless while you aren't, you know." Ben grinned, letting the other lean back and hook his fingers under Ben's sweater and shirt to pull them up and over his head, which caused a comical moment where the redhead was briefly tangled inside his clothes. After they both managed to free him, Ben laughed, his eyes twinkling and his hair dishevelled. Anakin was delighted by the expression and tilted his head down to meet his mouth in another passionate kiss, pressing his chest to Ben's. The feeling of the other's warm skin against his was bliss. 

After they came up for air, Anakin sat back and took Ben in with an appreciative eye, trailing his fingers through the fine hair that covered his torso and tracing patterns out of his freckles. Ben smiled shyly. "Clearly I was built for colder climates than you were," he said, watching the other admire him. 

"Well, there's colder climates and then there's Maine," Anakin teased. Holding Ben's gaze and biting his lip slightly, he deftly undid the other's jeans and then his own. Anakin tried to push him to lie back with one hand while he made to slip the other below Ben's waistband, but Ben gently took hold of his wrist with a mischievous smile.

"Uh-uh - age before beauty, I'm afraid. My turn first." He took hold of Anakin in his arms and rolled them over so that he was on top, lying between the blond's legs, and began to plant warm, wet kisses at Anakin's neck. Feeling the pleasant tickle of Ben's beard on his skin, Anakin gasped in happy surprise and let his head fall back, enjoying the sensation. _It’s happening… he wants me back and it’s finally happening…_ he thought. Ben was pressing kisses to his collarbone now, and Anakin felt like his skin was on fire everywhere the other touched.

Ben moved agonisingly slowly, as if he wanted to cover every inch of him in kisses before he moved further down. By the time he had reached just above his navel, Anakin was squirming and straining his hips upwards, trying to grind himself against Ben's upper chest. "Please..." 

Ben paused and smirked up at him with one eyebrow raised, lightly brushing a thumb over one of Anakin's nipples. He knew exactly what he was doing. "Please, what?" 

The blond bit his lip and made a pleading face. 

Ben laughed. "You're not very patient, are you?" 

"Can you blame me?!"

"Hmm, well..." He made a mock-thinking face, innocently looking upwards while he suddenly brought his hand to rub at Anakin's hardness through his jeans. Anakin cried out softly and tried to push up into Ben's touch. 

Ben chuckled. "Oh, I suppose not." He tugged at Anakin's zipper and pulled down his jeans and boxers in one swift motion so that he could take him into his mouth.

"Ah, fuck–" Anakin saw stars as he felt Ben's tongue on him. The redhead began a slow, teasing rhythm, not taking him too deep, and occasionally pulling back to run his tongue over the tip and taste him. Ben's hair fell forward as he knelt over Anakin, and when Ben brought his eyes up to meet his through it, the blond felt the heat of his attraction intensify.  _God, he's incredible._

He moaned as Ben started to take him deeper, trying to grab at the sofa cushions as the sensations he was feeling threatened to overwhelm him. Ben hummed low in his throat in response, which made him gasp, and the redhead quickened his pace. "God, Ben - that feels amazing -" Anakin managed hoarsely. 

He felt Ben smile around him, a feeling that was equal parts obscene and arousing. He could feel the tension building low in his groin and groaned, knowing he wouldn't last much longer but also never wanting this to end.  _And I thought I was going to be the forward one here...,_ he thought faintly. Ben's mouth was so warm and wet on him, and he felt his breathing start to quicken. 

"Fuck, Ben— I'm—" he gasped, the power of complex speech having seemingly escaped him. He reached down to tap Ben's shoulder and widened his eyes instead to warn him that he was close, in case the other wanted to pull away, but after he looked up Ben  _winked_ in response and suddenly took him in as deep as he could, the redhead's nose brushing against the dark hair at the base of him. Anakin's eyes squeezed shut and he cried out in ecstasy, his hips bucking upwards uncontrollably as he came desperately into Ben's mouth. He whined loudly as he felt Ben swallow around him and use his tongue to massage him through it. 

"Oh, fuck..." he said, after he eventually started to come down from the high. He reached up, dazed, to run his hand through his hair and rub the sweat from his forehead. Ben pulled away and demurely wiped at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, before giving Anakin a satisfied smile. Anakin reached to pull Ben back up to lie on top of him, kissing him roughly, before whispering breathlessly in his ear with a smirk. "Wow... I didn't know you were hiding  _that_ behind the reserved and proper act."

"Oh, you'll find I'm  _full_ of surprises, Anakin," Ben chuckled in response, which sent an excited shiver down the other’s spine. Then, he looked thoughtful. “Hmm… I suppose now that’s happened I can also allow myself to ask you the thing I’ve been thinking about for weeks…” the redhead continued teasingly.

“What? What is it?”

“Well… how would you like to be my date to the Oscars?”

Anakin’s eyes widened. “Seriously?! Like, the real Oscars?”

“Yes!” Ben chuckled, reaching up gently to brush Anakin’s hair out of his face. Anakin blushed at the intimacy of the gesture, despite what had happened moments before. “There is just one thing… it’s this Sunday. I… hadn’t decided until now if I was going to go or not.”

Anakin sat up abruptly wearing a look of incredulity. “Ben, it’s Friday.”

“Yes… I know…” he replied sheepishly. “Still want to come with me?”

Anakin’s expression melted into a broad grin, and he kissed Ben enthusiastically. After he finally pulled away, he smiled and gave him a wink. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone is wondering, the work title and chapter titles come from Joni Mitchell songs!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at [jerseytigermoth](http://jerseytigermoth.tumblr.com/)!


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